Strange New World
by Les Varioufs
Summary: A force that the Doctor does not recognise, a force stronger than even the formidable energy of the TARDIS itself, pulls the Doctor and Donna into a strange new world where anything seems possible. Sequel now up!
1. Prologue

**Plot Summary: **A force that the Doctor does not recognise, a force stronger than even the formidable energy of the TARDIS itself, pulls the Doctor and Donna into a strange new world where anything seems possible.

**Author's Note: **This is my first attempt at writing anything even remotely to do with Doctor Who. I have watched numerous episodes in an attempt to get the characters and information correct, but I apologise now if you find any inconsistencies. If you do, don't hesitate to point them out to me and I'll change it accordingly - I'd hate to think I was writing really out of character dialogue or really inaccurate science without knowing.. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story and so, as the Doctor would say - "Allons-y!"

**Prologue.**

"I know – Hogwarts! You'll like Hogwarts, Donna, lots of moving portraits, _huge_ rooms – and I mean _huge_; the last time I went there it was like it'd been fitted with a Drogilian Elongation Panel..." the Doctor trailed off for a moment as he smacked his hand onto a button seemingly at random before glancing up and grinning madly. "And the people, oh, there are _loads_ of-"

Donna held up her hands. "Slow down for a minute, space boy. You mean to tell me that you're taking us to _Hogwarts_?"

"Oh yes."

"But...that has to be impossible, I mean, there's _magic_ and _dragons-_"

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh, no, Donna-"

"-and _talking hats_," Donna continued slightly breathlessly, "and _you_, science freak of the galaxy-"

"Oi!"

"-are taking us _there_?"

"Well," the Doctor seemed very interested in studying the panel he was standing next to, "'there' in the sense that 'there' is...Orlando..."

Donna's smile dropped off her face. "Orlando? What about the real Hogwarts – oh wait, I have this one. It's _not_ real."

"Don't be daft, of course it's real-"

Donna's mouth dropped open again.

"-_but_," the Doctor emphasised, "it's in a different reality, one where the universe is governed by magic and not science. I can't take us there."

"But you said – hang on, if you can't take us there, that means you've never been there, right? So how do you know it's real?"

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair. "Blimey, how do I explain this... let's just say that, combined with the general trend of alternate universes, the stories by JK Rowling serve as a pretty good indicator. So," he added quickly, before Donna could get a word in edgeways, "do you want to go or not?"

"To Orlando?"

"To Orlando."

"And _not_ the real castle?"

"If I could get you there Donna, I would, but as it stands at the moment all we've got is the theme park... or the beach."

"Couldn't we do both?"

"Well, I suppose they _could_ build a theme park on the beach next time you ask them-"

"Alright, alright! I'll just pick one, shall I?"

"Hogwarts?" the Doctor guessed, grinning.

"Hogwarts," Donna confirmed. "I'm not missing it for the world, especially when I can use it to make Mike jealous. He's a die hard Harry Potter fan – even though he's nearly fifty!"

"Nearly fifty and a Harry Potter fan...well, can't argue with that, it's a good fandom, very well written, and I'm nine hundred so it'd be a bit hypocritical to joke about it, but I don't think you should tell him."

"Why not?"

"There's always the question of how you managed to get there when you're supposed to still be in Chiswick."

"He doesn't have to believe me, I just have to tell him."

"Donna. It won't work. Trust me – I tried something similar once."

"Fine. And _when_?"

"When what?"

"When did you ever run away from mummy and daddy Time Lord on an illegal trip only to come back and boast about it?"

"What I do isn't illegal!"

"So all that psychic paper, computer hacking and getting chased by monsters while never actually paying for anything you 'buy' is government recommended, is it?"

"Alright, you do have a point, but not _all_ of it is illegal."

"So go on then! What was the top secret trip?"

The Doctor sighed. "It involved the Krashonians and their famous Fudge Mountain – it's a bit of a long story so I'll tell you later."

"No way! _You _on a fudge mountain?" Donna repeated enthusiastically. "Oh, this is _brilliant_! What did you do, did you eat it?"

"No."

"Blow it up?"

"Blow it – why would I blow it up?"

"I don't know, maybe you fancied a snack and tried to blow a chunk off but ended up blowing it to pieces instead."

"I think I can safely say I never did that...hang on," the Doctor peered closely at a flashing red button, eyebrows furrowed, "what's going on here?"

"Or maybe," Donna continued, oblivious, "you tried to climb it and got stuck! Was that it, Doctor? Or-"

"I'm picking up an energy surge," the Doctor announced, flicking several switches, "and I don't know what's causing it."

"Is it serious?"

"It's threatening to drag us into a rip in the Time Vortex, Donna, yes, I'd say it's serious."

"What happens to us if that happens?" Donna demanded, watching as the Doctor ran around the control panel. "Doctor? What happens to us?"

The TARDIS juddered, a low groan sounding throughout the structure as the floor trembled and jerked beneath their feet.

"I don't know!" the Doctor shouted above the rising whine of the engines. "And I'd rather not find out, but whatever it is, it seems to want us pretty badly."

"What do we do?"

"Find a nice, strong handhold and just grab it – don't let go until we've stopped, no matter what happens."

"Doctor-"

"I'm going to try and fight the energy for as long as I can – just find a handhold, Donna, this is going to get very bumpy very quickly!"

"But-"

Sparks began to fly from the console, making the Doctor jump back to avoid getting burnt before he stumbled dangerously, forced to grab hold of another part of the panel, still struggling to pilot the TARDIS even as it careered wildly from side to side.

Part of the panel caught fire and the Doctor was forced once more to let go, just as the TARDIS tipped, dumping him heavily into the seats nearby.

"Doctor!"

"I'm alright!" the Doctor bellowed back, his voice barely audible over the almost deafening whining. "I can't fight it anymore, it's too strong!"

Still clinging to the seats, he turned to face her, eyes frantic, staring straight at her through the sparks. "I'm sorry, Donna, but we can't break free. It's got us."

**AN: And that has to be the shortest intro that I've ever written :p Let me know what you think, even if what you think is that I got the facts hideously wrong! **


	2. Crash Landing

**2. Crash Landing.**

There was intense silence after the fires were automatically put out – the last act of the TARDIS before it seemed to power down completely and all light was lost. The heavy scent of smoke hung in the air.

"So, we've landed and we haven't blown up-"

"Yet."

"-which means that whatever wants us wants us alive. But why?"

Donna sighed, staring around the darkened control room. "Somehow I don't think they wanted to steal the TARDIS..."

"The TARDIS is equipped with isomorphic control; that means that no one can drive it without my consent, it would be useless to steal it – unless of course they manage to brainwash me, which is extremely difficult and most people never even attempt to do it...tell me," the Doctor added suddenly, "can you see any lights anywhere?"

"Lights? What, inside the ship?"

"One light, just any light," he explained, running around the darkened control panel.

"What good's one light going to do?"

"A light," the Doctor explained, pulling up a floorboard, "no matter how small, how insignificant, is still a light and as long as it's there, the TARDIS still has at least some power left."

There was a clang as Donna heard the Doctor leap up from the floor, sprint across the room, and drop to his knees. "And as long as the TARDIS has some power left I can re-charge it with my own life force-"

"Your _what_?"

"My life force. The TARDIS runs on artron energy provided by Gallifrey's Eye of Harmony, and artron energy is found inside humanoid minds. And how do I look, Donna?"

Donna blinked. "I don't know – it's _dark_!"

"_Humanoid_, Donna, I look humanoid."

"But you can't use your own energy to power the TARDIS! It's enormous, and you're just a skinny man in a suit!"

"Normally, you'd be right, but I'm not just a man in a suit – I'm a Time Lord in a suit, and Time Lords have huge amounts of artron energy-"

"You sound like you've got this all planned," Donna interrupted. "Sometimes I think you get into trouble on purpose!"

"I've done it before-"

"So you've already given up your life force like this? Doctor, how much do you have left?"

"Enough. But first, I need to find a light."

"How do you know that what you did last time will work now? How do you know there isn't something stopping us from leaving like, I don't know, a giant force field?"

"There's no giant force field, Donna, but we do need to leave."

There was a loud bang.

"So you're not even going to look outside? See where we are, what they want?"

"We haven't got much time. If there is still a light on somewhere, I need to recharge it so I can use it to reboot the TARDIS – and even that'll take twenty four hours."

"People could be in trouble out there!" Donna exclaimed, jabbing her finger in what she hoped was the general direction of the door.

"And we have no time to save them, not if we ever want to get back home."

Silence descended between them then as Donna processed the news, trying to imagine what possibly could have happened when the Doctor had last been in this situation to make him wary of going outside.

What had happened to galloping out into a new world, intending to stay for five hours but instead getting trapped for five days?

"No," the Doctor suddenly breathed right at Donna's shoulder, making her scream and jump.

Struggling to get her breathing and pulse under control, Donna turned to face the area that the voice had come from. "_What_?"

"There are no lights," the Doctor murmured, sounding slightly frantic. "I checked all around the control room and there are none at all."

"What about one of the other rooms? This thing is huge; you could have missed something."

"If any were on they'd be in here. This is the main control room."

"But you said it yourself; even if the light is insignificant, it'll help."

There were a few moments of intense silence before running footsteps hinted that the Doctor had once again moved.

"Doctor?"

"I'm going to check the bedrooms and work my way in. If you do the same on the other side of the TARDIS we can meet in the middle and see if either of us has found anything. Remember, search high and low – use a step ladder if you have to. There's one in the miscellaneous cupboard near the kitchen-"

"'_Miscellaneous cupboard'_?"

"-and please, Donna, don't touch anything unnecessarily in the dark."

"Why not? Nothing will work – it's dead!"

"I have a lot of alien technology, so don't be too sure of that."

Footsteps sounded up again, getting fainter and fainter as the Doctor sprinted towards the bedrooms,

leaving Donna, as she was now suddenly very aware, alone in the dark.

"Do you have a torch – one with batteries?" No reply. "Doctor?"

Sighing, she made her way to the nearest wall and began to feel her way along it, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of light. "Ladders, miscellaneous cupboards...technology that works powered by who knows what but," she muttered to herself irritably, "no torches. Not even a _match_."

oOo

Half an hour later found Donna inching her way through the vast and incredibly alien kitchen. Despite having been on the Doctor's TARDIS for months, she had never really understood the confusing wonders of Time Lord kitchens and recipes, which meant that the Doctor usually cooked. She had tried once or twice, simply out of frustration, but had almost burnt the kitchen to a cinder and discovered that the TARDIS' onboard fire sprinklers (which in practice were more like controlled waterfalls, hence the TARDIS' current state of disrepair) were in full working order.

All in all, the kitchen was not a place where Donna Noble could usually be found on board the TARDIS, and both the Doctor and Donna liked it that way. He was free to make meals without snide digs about his "female side", as Donna liked to call it, and in return Donna's hair did not get singed whenever she tried to make toast.

It was an equitable trade, but one she was now regretting as she struggled to remember which dangerous machine she was now feeling and how to get round it.

Manoeuvring around one particularly solid obstacle and feeling herself boxed in, Donna attempted to twist round, but only managed a shuffle that brought her into a side on position and ensured that she was even more stuck than before.

Seeing a sudden light flashing just within her vision, she took a deep breath and, hoping that the Doctor could hear her from wherever he was, bellowed at the top of her voice.

"Doctor! There's a light – I'm in the kitchen-"

The light began to move towards what Donna assumed was the kitchen door and hovered there in bewilderment.

"Donna..."

It was the Doctor's voice, she realised, and he was struggling not to laugh despite the gravity of their situation.

"Donna," he tried again, only a slight wobble in his voice this time. "Why are you wedged between the stove and the laser dishwasher?"

"I couldn't see where I was going," she explained, realising that excuses would just make her look even sillier, "and your TARDIS is like a maze! _How_ am I supposed to find a light when I can't even see where I'm going?"

"Why didn't you just get a torch?"

"And how was I supposed to find _that_ in the dark? Do you ever _plan_ for power cuts, or do you just stumble about with a candle and hope you get the right room?"

"I get a torch," the Doctor replied once she finished her tirade, "from the miscellaneous cupboard. They're in a box near the door with Braille labelling on them – you know, just in case it's dark."

"I can't read _Braille_!"

"Perhaps you should learn," he coughed, still hovering in the doorway.

"Are you going to stand there laughing at me all day or are you going to help me out?"

The light moved closer until Donna could see the Doctor's face, a disturbing mix of worry and humour warring across his features.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

"When you didn't turn up," the Doctor replied, putting his torch on the stove and beginning to pull her out, "I checked the rooms to see if I could find you."

"There's no light, is there." It wasn't a question.

"No," the Doctor admitted. "No light. We're stranded here."

One final tug and Donna was free, straightening her clothes even as she digested the news.

"There's no other way of getting out of here? No way of collecting energy?"

He picked the torch back up and began to walk out the door. "We don't even know if the life on the planet is humanoid, or even if there is life outside. Even if there were, gathering enough energy to jump start a TARDIS would be dangerous, potentially lethal, even, for those involved."

"We really are trapped then."

"Unless we find a huge supply of artron energy floating around outside, yes. But," he added, "we're going to have to take a look."

From the circular objects outlined by the Doctor's torch, Donna knew that they were now in the central control room.

"So we're going outside?"

The Doctor made a sound of affirmation, striding over to the large wooden doors and pausing. "Without the TARDIS' power, we're at the mercy of the elements. If the atmosphere is harmful to us, there'll be no force field to protect us."

"But we're breathing now," Donna pointed out.

"The TARDIS is air tight."

"Doesn't look it," Donna muttered, remembering the battered appearance of the doors.

"Time Lord mechanics," he explained swiftly. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she replied softly.

"Donna, just in case-"

"Don't."

"I don't always get a chance to say goodbye."

"We'll be fine," she replied, her voice just as serious. "Just open the door, space boy, before I change my mind."

The doors seemed to open so slowly, impossibly slowly, as though time itself had been reduced to plodding along through treacle.

Bright sunshine began to filter into the darkened control room through small cracks as the doors opened, and then flooded in as the doors fell wide open. On the heels of the light came a slight breeze, ruffling their hair lightly.

The Doctor sniffed, then cocked his head slightly to the side. "Smells promising." With that, he stepped outside.

They were on a grassy hill which seemed to stretch for an impossibly long distance, a large, sprawling castle in the distance. To their left was a large, wooden hut with an eccentric looking vegetable patch lying in the midday sun. The breeze blew straight into the TARDIS, carrying with it the smell of summer and fresh air.

Stood on lush green grass, strewn with small, colourful flowers, they stared.

"Is it...Earth?"

"It has to be," the Doctor replied, sniffing the air once more. "Smells like it, but it makes no sense. This era, whatever it may be, doesn't look advanced enough to have brought us here..."

"But it must have, right? Why would someone drag the TARDIS into a different dimension just to dump us on Earth?"

"I don't know, but I think we're about to find out."

"What-"

"Voices," he explained, "coming from the back of the TARDIS, and getting louder."

"...need to know what it is," a drawling voice explained impatiently.

"We've spent the last half hour examining it! We _know_ what it is, it's a police box!"

"Then would you care to explain how it came to suddenly appear on the grounds?" the drawling voice demanded, sounding impatient.

"But hang on," Donna whispered urgently, "I know that voice! I've heard it in films!"

"Donna..."

"...I know?" a wheezy voice demanded.

Three figures appeared around the corner of the TARDIS, obviously deep in argument, although the tallest had his hand raised, his fingers wrapped tightly around a piece of wood. He was dressed entirely in black, his greasy hair partly obscuring his gaunt face. His two companions were both short, squat twins who appeared to possess limited intelligence. Their wands were nowhere in sight.

"_You're _supposed to be-"

"It's Alan Rickman!" Donna squealed, elbowing the Doctor in the ribs. "Look! Right there, Alan Rickman!" her brows furrowed. "But wait a minute - he looks so _young_..." she squinted at the dark figure, confused. "He looks about thirty – and when did he grow his hair long?"

"Donna," the Doctor whispered, staring wide eyed at the three newcomers, "it's _not_ Alan Rickman. We need to get back in the TARDIS. Now."

"What? Of course it's him, who else would it be? Doctor! They're shooting a film, we're-"

Before she could finish, Donna toppled to the ground, stiff as a board, and the Doctor looked up to see cold, dark black eyes boring into his, a wand pointed between his eyes.

"Who are you?"

"I'm-"

"Isn't it obvious, Severus? It's Barty! He's-"

"Been Kissed," Snape interrupted impatiently. "Thank you, Alecto, but I'll do the talking. Keep your wands on that woman, both of you. For all we know she could be able to do wandless magic."

"But it _looks_ like-"

"Just because it looks like him does not mean that it _is_ him, Alecto, we live in a world of magic, remember?" Snape sneered, his eyes never leaving the Doctor. "Now, unless you wish to experience the wrath of the Dark Lord for failing to obey a senior Death Eater, you shall be absolutely _silent_ unless told otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Headmaster," the two muttered resentfully.

"Good. Now," Snape added, turning back to the Doctor, "who are you?"

"He was right, you know. I'm Barty."

Snape's lip curled. "You sound nothing like him."

"I hit my head."

Snape's yellow teeth were showing through a sudden, dark smile. "Really?" he drawled, supremely unimpressed. "And I suppose that it just so happened that this _bump_ on your head somehow managed to knock your soul back into your body?"

The Doctor snorted. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I've never been Kissed – well, not in that sense, anyway, but I've had quite a few come my way in the past. Speaking of past, what year is it?"

Snape's eyes narrowed, as though assessing him, before finally replying, "1997. August, before you ask," he sneered.

"1997, blimey, I'm far from home."

"Do you think this is a game?" Snape demanded, eyes hard. "Because I can promise you that it shall end very badly indeed if you do not start explaining yourself."

"As I already told you, Snape, I'm Barty Crouch Junior and what you see behind me is none of your business," the Doctor explained, keeping Snape's gaze and his expression angry. "It's a secret project for the Dark Lord, and one you're not part of."

"There was no information regarding you and a secret mission beyond the Triwizard Tournament – which you only deigned to inform us about _after_ it had happened."

The Doctor lifted his head. "I'm developing it at Hogwarts while working as Moody," he sneered, "since you seem to know all about what I was doing. You'd be surprised how easy it is to keep other people's noses out of your business when you're playing a paranoid man with deadly aim. Even you were scared, Snape."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Time travel," he stated, "in a Muggle contraption such as this is impossible."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Time travel? I never said-"

Now it was Snape's turn to smirk. "You asked me the date. Besides," he added significantly, "the truth is written across your face." He paused for a moment to allow that to sink in before adding, "What is the purpose of this 'time machine', _Barty_?"

"It's a gift for the Dark Lord, one that'll bring me further into his favour than the likes of you could ever hope to be!"

"I say he's telling the truth."

"This is not a democracy, Amycus, and I am in charge here. We shall not inform the Dark Lord of 'Barty's' arrival until we are absolutely certain of who he is and what exactly his machine does."

"But-"

"This is not open for debate," Snape snarled. "Both of you, stay here and guard the machine for the time being. Send me a Patronus if anything happens – I'll tell you what to do with it later when I have more information. I'll be in my office questioning 'Barty' and his companion."

"Yes, Headmaster," the twins chorused, moving to stand guard at the entrance door to the TARDIS.

"In front of me," Snape ordered, levitating Donna with a flick of his wrist.

"She can walk, you know."

Snape ignored him. "To the castle, and do not even think of trying to escape. You are out armed."

"I may have something up my sleeve."

Snape snorted. "Yet you are reluctant to use it – the real Bartemus Crouch Junior would not express such a reservation. Even the Longbottom idiot would have his wand out by now, whether he wanted to fight or not."

"I don't need one."

"Then break free." Snape's self-satisfied tone increased when the Doctor made no move and Donna remained immobilised. "I thought so. Keep walking, _Barty_."


	3. Cunning Plans

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who has been reading this and reviewing! I have tried to reply to each one so far - which is why I'm going to post the reply to "Mer" here, who was not logged in (and if you don't have an account, you must consider it! :D ) I have actually started watching it again, since you suggested it, and really enjoy it - which is saying something since I didn't like Rose to begin with.. Donna has always been my favourite but I now think we have a close second! Just out of interest, which is your favourite episode? I quite like the one with the ghosts (I don't remember the name), in particular the random "ghost busters" routine :p

Anyway, I shall stop there before the note becomes longer than the chapter, which I hope you all enjoy!

**3. Cunning Plans.**

"Professor, _what_ is going on here?"

"Headmaster," Snape corrected automatically, barely even blinking as a middle aged Scottish woman fell into stride with him, "and it is none of your concern, Minerva."

"Professor McGonagall," came the frosty reply.

Snape smirked. "Professor," he sneered, the single word laden with immeasurable contempt.

McGonagall bristled but apparently decided not to press the point. "On the contrary, Professor, I think it is very much my concern."

"You elected not to be involved when you failed to respond to the wards' warning that there were trespassers on the grounds."

"I was busy, Professor, as you well know, since you are responsible for my current amount of paperwork."

"My, my, the workload is simply terrifying at this time of year, isn't it, Professor, with the lack of proper marking and no students to constantly chase after."

McGonagall drew herself up to her full height, her voice becoming more and more irritable. "As Head of Gryffindor House," she snapped, "I have the responsibility to make sure that everything is ready. That means drawing up the rotas, overseeing the preparation of the dormitories, outlining my own syllabus and including new material, not to mention those silly declarations of blood purity you have me filling out!"

"Be that as it may," Snape relented, "a ward alarm is never to be ignored, particularly in view of the current political climate and future residents of this school. Is that understood?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with the reprimand but seeing its hidden warning nevertheless. "Then perhaps you might tell me how you came to have a Bartemus Crouch Junior look-alike and a petrified woman in the corridors, since a school is apparently no place for unwanted guests?"

"As I stated earlier, it is none of your concern, Professor. Now, if you will excuse me, I find myself with very little time on my hands and, from the none-too subtle hints that you have so frequently dropped, I am sure that you will relish some extra time to work on your – ah – _busy schedule_."

McGonagall's spine stiffened, if possible, even more at the rebuke but, recognising the stubborn and slightly menacing glint in Snape's eyes, she turned and walked back in the direction she had come from, never looking back.

"Bit of trouble with the staff?" the Doctor asked innocently, keeping a close eye on Snape's closed expression.

"Amongst other things," Snape growled. "Dumbledore," he told the gargoyle guard. "Up the spiral staircase, through the first door at the top."

Leisurely climbing the slowly revolving spiral staircase, the Doctor pushed open the heavy wooden door at the top, whistling as he stepped into the cluttered study beyond.

Frame upon frame littered the office walls, all of the occupants buzzing loudly in surprise at the new arrival, some even recognising him and jeering their disapproval. The Doctor took no notice of the remarks, instead focussing upon the haphazardly organised desk nearby, upon which lay several strange objects, each of them looking more alien than the last. In the corner sat a Pensieve, incongruous to the setting because of its sinister air which seemed to cast a shadow upon the area surrounding it.

"Just as Dumbledore left it," the Doctor murmured, still staring around him.

Hearing a loud thud, the Doctor span around just in time to see Donna get unceremoniously dumped on the floor as Snape cancelled the levitation spell before turning his back to them and setting up secrecy wards around the office.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked Donna, who simply stared at him. "Right, stupid question, you can't talk." Donna glared in agreement.

Finished with the wards, Snape turned back around and moved to stand in front of the desk, though never actually touching it.

"The truth."

"I told you, Snape, I'm B-"

"Don't lie to me," Snape snapped. "I can see it in your mind. Barty Crouch Junior never battled metallic men or travelled in a blue telephone box – the same box," he went on, "that you came from."

Donna thudded her feet loudly on the ground, glaring. With an impatient flick of his wrist, Snape lifted the spell restraining Donna, who instantly scrambled off the ground.

"_Thanks_," she said sarcastically.

"So," the Doctor said, no longer bothering to pretend to be Barty Crouch, "you saw the Cybermen. I have to admit – and it's not easy for me to say this...I'm impressed. You're a human, supposedly a non-telepathic race, and you not only broke into my mind, but you did it without me noticing. That takes skill."

"Modesty is obviously not a trait that you admire," Snape drawled.

"Could say the same for you," the Doctor countered, "you did nothing to deny my comment."

"Enough prancing around the subject. Who are you?"

"All that power available to you yet you prefer to question me verbally, why? Not that I'm complaining, don't get me wrong, good old fashioned interrogation is better than being telepathically attacked any day..." the Doctor peered at Snape, who stared right back, then raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to use Legilimency. You _know_ that it can be dangerous if used wrongly – maybe through your own experience as a Death Eater – and you don't want to inflict pain on us. Am I right? Because that's not very Death Eater, is it... and they're going to find out."

Snape's lips pulled back into a growl and Donna nudged the Doctor in the ribs. "Do you _want_ him to attack your mind?"

"No, of course not!"

"Well it looks like you're doing a pretty good job of convincing him to."

"You seem to know a lot about me," Snape noted, "yet nothing about where you are. You do not even know the current year. What are you and where are you from?"

"I really don't think you'd believe me."

Snape looked the Doctor up and down twice before circling around him, wand out and muttering incantations as he went. "Two hearts," he announced, eyebrow raised, "an unusual amount of energy. Vast intellect – do not take that as a compliment," he added, catching the Doctor's expression. "I never mentioned what you were knowledgeable about. With all of the interests available in this age you could be a flower fanatic."

"Aren't _you_ one?" Donna demanded. "Potions is flowers, isn't it?"

Snape studiously ignored her.

The Doctor coughed. "I never thought we'd ever end up arguing with Severus Snape," he announced to Donna. "Stood here, in the Headmaster's office, surrounded by moving portraits who..." he looked around at the ugly expressions, "aren't looking very friendly at the moment – probably because I look like Barty, but that's just an astronomical coincidence-"

"If you will cease your unstoppable stream of spouting nonsensical observations," Snape said, sounding annoyed, "perhaps I will be able to concentrate on what I am doing."

"Right...sorry."

After a scowl at the Doctor for good measure, Snape moved on to Donna. "One heart," he murmured, "potential for brilliance, if the imagination is stretched-"

"Oi!"

"Actually, coming from him I think that might be a compliment," the Doctor said. Snape glared at him. "Or...not. Never mind."

"Human," Snape concluded a short while later. "Recessive magic, the same for you," he added, looking at the Doctor. "I have never seen this condition in adults," he murmured, deep in thought, darting a quick glance at a nearby portrait.

"Hang on, recessive magic? Does that mean that I can do it?" Donna demanded. "I could start spouting 'hocus pocus' and 'abracadabra' and it'd do something?"

"Donna..."

"Open sesame!" she commanded, pointing her finger at the door. "Open – why won't it open?"

Snape, who had now moved back to the desk, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. "Quite apart from the fact that I have locked it," he said drily, "the words you are so confidently using are inarticulate in the wizarding world."

"It's like trying to run a computer off wind power, Donna. The wrong power for the spell to work."

"If you are quite finished," Snape said pointedly, "perhaps you should both take a seat. We have much to discuss."

"Don't tell me, you're going to wave your wand and turn the seat into a cage as soon as I sit on it."

"It's not a trap, Donna. He has us where he wants us already."

"He's a master Slytherin and a spy, of course it's going to be a – ow! Did you _have_ to knock me into it like that?"

"What did you just say?"

"Oh – that," the Doctor replied before Donna could even open her mouth. "She's just...spouting. She does that."

"Perhaps, Severus, simply questioning them is not enough," an old portrait, the one Snape had sneaked a glance at, suggested with grave eyes.

Snape seemed to consider this for a moment before reluctantly picking up his wand, eyes drifting between Donna and the Doctor. Finally, his eyes locked with Donna.

"No – no, no, no, no, you leave her out of this! Search me instead!"

"And have you hide truths from me?" Snape sneered. "You admitted it yourself; you have experience in the art of Occlumency. No, I think it will be much more beneficial to go for the simpler, unprotected mind..._Legilimens_!"

Donna's world seemed to hone in for a moment on Snape's eyes, her surroundings melting away to be replaced with those inky black depths, before instinct took over and she started struggling. From what seemed like miles away, she could hear the Doctor shouting her name before, with a sudden burst of power, Snape was in the midst of her unprotected mind.

_She saw herself on her wedding day, suddenly stood in what had at the time been a strange new room, the Doctor staring at her in shock. "What?"_

_The memory melted away before it was completed to be replaced with small, white creatures, floating to the sky and the spaceship beyond. "I'm waving at __**fat**__!" The strange mental presence shifted, as though blinking in astonishment and confusion, before moving to the next scene. _

_"...believe it all now..."_

_"...they're all gone. I'm the last one left..."_

_"...wasp, that's __**giant**__..."_

_The images were speeding up, as though Snape was calling up memories faster and faster in order to make sure that they were not being spontaneously fabricated. _

_"...yeah...I'm not from mars..."_

_"...tell me there's no Noddy..."_

_"...Time Lord..."_

_"__**Doctor**__!"_

_"...a __**water pistol**__?"_

_"...Wait till you read book seven. Oh, I cried."_

And suddenly, Donna was left blinking in peace of mind, reeling from the strange new experience, chest heaving and staring at Snape in shock.

"Donna?" The Doctor was kneeling in front of her now, looking worried. "Donna, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied, a little breathlessly, before turning back to stare at Snape. "Did you just _read my mind_?" He made no reply except a derogatory sneer, as though the answer was obvious. "Without permission? But that means – you just-" she gasped. "Oh my God...you mind-raped me!"

"How astute." Despite his condescending tone, however, there was a flash of regret in his dark eyes.

"But – how could you-"

"Since you seem to know so much about me I am surprised that your mind hasn't made the logical and rather easy jump to the fact that I am quite...untrustworthy."

"I'll say! Doctor – he just-"

"You didn't have to do that," the Doctor interrupted, glaring at Snape. "You _know_ that Legilimency is potentially dangerous, especially for those unprepared, and you just..._did it, _because a _portrait _told you_-_"

"You left me no choice-"

"You could have done anything else – Veritaserum, Pensieve, even me, but you didn't have to bring her into it like that!"

"There is little use in arguing about the past," Snape snarled, "when we have a current problem larger than your companion's mental comfort!"

"What do you mean?" Donna asked, wary.

Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and muttered, "Of all the stupid, dunderheaded-"

"Does this have something to do with the Carrows?" Donna demanded suddenly. "Doctor, I haven't read it yet, so I might be wrong, but – are we in book _seven_?"

"Yes."

Donna looked at Snape in horror. "So in a few months, less than a year, he's going to di-"

The Doctor coughed loudly. "Spoilers."

Snape simply arched an eyebrow. "Leaving the subject of my impending death to one side for the moment-"

The Doctor glared at Donna, who mouthed an apology.

"-we have more important things to discuss."

"Indeed we do, Severus," the portrait of the old man chimed in. "It is a rather interesting predicament, and one that even I did not take into account when laying down plans for the war."

"But that's-" Donna broke off, stunned.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment at the portrait's voice before remembering himself and snapping them back open. "Albus, I'm hardly surprised that you didn't plan for a time-travelling maniac and his girlfriend-"

"Oh, no, we're not-" the Doctor began.

"We're not a couple-"

"-we're just...friends-"

"Who travel together," Donna added.

"Who travel together," the Doctor agreed, nodding.

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, to be young, and-"

"Don't," Snape barked. "They're friends. You're nostalgic. I'm rapidly becoming impatient. I do not have much time to form a plan, Albus, so I would appreciate it if the banter was left to one side for now."

"Of course, my boy."

"They are moderately trustworthy. Miss Noble's memories are truthful, although I should like to know the reason behind the original lie," he added pointedly, directing the last comment to the two travellers rather than the portrait.

"Well," the Doctor began, "if you suddenly find yourself stranded on Hogwarts grounds during Voldemort's takeover and then get recognised by the people to find you...you live up to that mistaken identity, because you need all the help you can get."

"Very Slytherin," Donna added with a grin.

"So..." one portrait chimed in, looking thoroughly confused. "You're _not_ Barty Crouch Junior?"

"Obviously," Snape drawled, looking un-amused. "Given that your acting is atrocious, Doctor, you are fortunate that the Carrows are not more astute. As it is, we now have to devise a conceivable explanation for why Barty Crouch Junior – who is currently a drooling, soulless vegetable of a human being – managed to materialise through the wards of Hogwarts in a Muggle time machine on a so-called 'project' that even the Dark Lord does not know about. We have one hour."

"Yes...that would seem to be a problem, especially because the TARDIS is much more advanced than any current Muggle technology," the Doctor agreed. "But, since the simplest explanation is often the easiest to remember and stick to and, philosophically at least, the most plausible, I recommend me staying as Barty."

"I agree."

"Albus, the entire story will raise questions-"

"Magical time travelling...devices..." the Doctor gestured, forgetting the word in his enthusiasm, "they already exist, so there is no reason why Barty couldn't have transferred the magic into Muggle technology in secret to try to give Voldemort an edge in the war, paradoxes notwithstanding-"

"He is a Pureblood and does not even know how to drive a car," Snape pointed out.

"And you do?" Donna demanded. Snape ignored her.

"Which is why he has Donna."

"But...I know nothing about time machines."

"Voldemort doesn't know that, and I can teach you, or implant the knowledge in your mind temporarily."

"When the Dark Lord finds out – yes," Snape continued, seeing Donna's look, "_when_; the Carrows are certain to say something – he shall demand to see you both for himself. Which means," he continued in a low, ominous voice, "what he euphemistically calls 'questioning' to make sure that you are who you claim to be."

"But you could tell him-"

"My testimony will not be enough, Miss Noble. The Dark Lord leaves little to chance."

"You shall have to teach them Occlumency, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly.

"Oh, not me," the Doctor protested. "I can do that already; I'm a Time Lord, we're telepathic – well, touch telepaths."

"Would we stay here, at Hogwarts?" Donna asked.

"There would be no reason why not," Snape scowled. "Barty is skilled in the Dark Arts and may be reinstated as Professor in Carrow's place. He would then have the protection of Hogwarts, access to research for his 'time machine', the ability to 'recruit'-"

"What about the Ministry?" Donna asked. "I mean, wouldn't they notice if you hide a Kissed criminal in a school?"

Snape snorted, but it was the Doctor who answered. "The Ministry is more or less converted. There are literally Death Eaters everywhere – positions of power, Aurors, secretaries. Anything."

"But hang on – the Doctor can't do magic yet. How is he supposed to teach?"

"Recessive magic, caused by a mind block, am I right, Headmaster?" Snape nodded. "We live in a universe filled with science," the Doctor explained, "and we accept that as the way things work. But I've seen a type of magic before – Shakespeare, voodoo, long story – but now that we have landed ourselves in an alternate universe where magic is more evident than in our own...if we get rid of the mind block caused by disbelief in magic which actually keeps latent magical abilities at bay...we can blend in with the culture here."

"Are you saying," Donna said, incredulously, "that there's _magic_ in our universe?"

"Not as much as here, but enough that some people can use it." The Doctor gave her a weird look. "How else do you think some people manage to do out of the ordinary things? We've explained it away as a lack of understanding about the way things work, a lack of knowledge about biology, the brain, but it's possible it could be a very small, almost insignificant form of magic."

Donna blinked. "Things can never be simple around you, can they?"

"Of course not, that'd be boring."

"So what do I do, if the Doctor's staying as Barty?"

"You," Snape sneered, "are going to be Mr Filch's assistant."

Donna stared. "_What_?"

"You are supposed to be the Muggle assistant to 'Barty' – you must act like one. You are to show little knowledge of magic - which shall be no arduous task - no magical ability, you are to be submissive, having been trained by a ruthless Death Eater. You are, in other words, the ignorant, anonymous and fearful assistant. Beneath notice."

"How _glamorous_. Don't I even get to learn how to defend myself? Just in case?"

Both Dumbledore and Snape shook their heads. "If anything should happen," Snape explained, "that would blow our cover."

"Can't I at least have a Muggle weapon?"

"Do you want to?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"I'm not going to get carted off screaming by evil men in cloaks if that's what you mean!"

"Even with a Muggle weapon," Snape said, "you would have little chance against wands. Now," he stood up, "wait here." He turned and disappeared into a back room.

"So does all of this," Donna asked, gesturing the room at large, "mean that we'll be getting the help of the Death Eaters so that we can go back home?"

"They have to send us back in time," the Doctor replied, "or the plan to resurrect Voldemort is never put into action."

"But how are we going to get energy to power the TARDIS?"

"There's only one source of artron energy available to us," the Doctor said with deep disapproval. "Human beings."

"_Humans_? But-"

The door re-opened and Snape stepped back into the office, holding a battered looking wand, which he offered to the Doctor. "A spare," he said by way of explanation.

The Doctor took it gingerly and pointed it at a quill on Snape's desk. "Wingardium Leviosa," he stated after a few minutes of intense concentration. It rose shakily.

"Show off," Donna muttered. "Did you get rid of your mind barrier already?"

The Doctor let the feather float innocently back onto the table. "What? I know my mind. Now, one more thing, Professor Snape, if you don't mind me asking. Before we arrived here, there was a large energy surge that pulled the TARDIS into this reality. I don't suppose you know what it was?"

Snape frowned and glanced at Dumbledore's portrait, which was suspiciously silent. "No idea."

"Right," the Doctor murmured, staring at the portrait, before slapping a large grin onto his face. "So, where do we go?"

oOo

"But this is _brilliant_," Donna gasped as they walked through the door that had just appeared. "Really five star, futuristic..." she walked across the room to look at a shelf of books, "and _nerdy_."

The Doctor shut the door behind him, face closed. "The Room of Requirement," he explained. "It latches onto ideas in a person's mind, a deep need, and moulds itself to suit them."

"Some of the symbols on these books are really weird – look at that one! It looks like some sort of...I don't even know what it is!"

"That's Gallifrean."

Donna froze. "What's Hogwarts doing with Gallifrean books?"

The Doctor strode further into the room and sat down, not even bothering to take his large overcoat off. He seemed to be staring into space. "It's from my mind. What you're seeing...it's a copy of my childhood bedroom – except the second bed, that's new...but essentially," he murmured, finally looking around, "completely identical."

Donna put the book carefully back on the shelf and moved over to the Doctor, clearly at a loss for what to do. "Doctor?"

"You can't read those symbols," the Doctor continued, as though talking to himself, "because the TARDIS is broken down. Ordinarily, it telepathically translates...into the mind..."

Donna knelt down before him as he trailed off, eyes staring straight through her. "Doctor?"

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath and blinked, plastering a completely fake smile on his face. "I should probably start learning how to do all those spells," he announced, pushing himself out the chair.

Donna stood up too. "Forget about that – Doctor, are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"Donna," he snapped, "I told you, I'm fine."

"And I don't believe you," Donna said simply. "If there's anything I can do-"

The Doctor made a sound of disbelief. "What can you possibly do to counteract _this_? My planet is gone, Donna, the people on it can never come back, and we're going to be stuck in a tiny corner of it for the foreseeable future. _How_ can you even begin to hope to help?"

Donna forced her voice to remain calm despite her rising sense of irritation. "I may not be a mighty Time Lord," she said softly, "but I know how to listen, and how to be a shoulder to cry on. I'm offering you that, Doctor, if you ever need it."

The Doctor remained quiet, then turned from her and walked around the room, hands in his pockets, touching nothing, until he stopped in the furthest corner and turned around to face her again.

"Sorry."

Donna snorted. "There's nothing to apologise about, space boy. Just remember you're not omnipotent."

The Doctor smiled wryly. "That's not going to keep me out of trouble."

"Of course not!" Donna agreed. "The worse it gets the more you seem to love it. You have some sort of...trouble fetish or something."

"_Trouble fetish_?" The Doctor shook his head, eyebrows and nose scrunched up. "_No_. I'm more of a magnet."

"Right," Donna agreed, "because you look so metallic."

"You should be glad I don't, or right now you'd be learning to run very fast."

Donna rolled her eyes and he walked back to her, outburst sidestepped for the time being. "Thank you, Donna."

"No problem," she said seriously. "Now, how about those spells? Fancy teaching me any?"

"I wish I could, but I can't."

"Not even wandless? I'm _really_ good at making things look accidental, used to keep me out of mum's hair when I was a kid – maybe I could do the same for this!"

The Doctor shook his head. "But I can teach you karate, if you want."

"_You_ know karate?"

"You never know when it'll be useful." There was a brief silence. "Alright, I read a book about it two hundred years ago, I've never actually used it, but I can still teach you."

"I'm not learning out of date karate!"

"Two hundred years ago in my personal timeline," the Doctor explained, "but in the eighties on Earth." He sniffed, then grinned. "The Japanese are great at writing instructions."

"You _didn't_!"

"I did."

"But how – wait a minute, you cheated. You said the TARDIS translates for you." She paused, held up a finger, and said, "Does that mean the book looked Gallifrean, or that you just knew what it meant?"

"It's a bit hard to explain..."

"So you could look at it now, and it'd be gibberish?"

The Doctor nodded.

"Nine hundred years and you never found the time to actually _learn_ Japanese?"

"I was busy! Besides, everything seems to happen to you British whenever I'm there..."

Donna shrugged and made a non-committal sound of agreement. "Not really an excuse."

"And I suppose you know it?"

"No, but I _do_ speak a bit of French. Teach me some magic and I'll teach you some French."

"You're impossible!"

"Is it a deal then?"

"No!"

Looking put out as the Doctor took out his wand and began levitating things, Donna muttered to herself; "Worth a try."


	4. Legilimency

**4. Legilimency.**

A strange klaxon sound filled the room, shattering the peace of the morning and causing the two occupants to jump to wakefulness in their respective beds. Donna groaned and rolled over, shoving a pillow on top of her head in a vain attempt to drown out the sound.

The Doctor fairly bounced out of his bed and ran across the room, standing in front of the wailing klaxon and staring at it, arms seemingly bolted to his side as a pensive expression flitted across his face. "I never did manage to change the tone…"

Donna lifted the pillow off her head and stared at him. "Don't tell me it's your _alarm clock_!"

"What's wrong with it?" the Doctor replied, having to yell above the noise.

"It's like an army wakeup call!"

"I _think_ that was the point of it, actually. My parents set it for six every morning and then locked the controls so the sound blared for ten minutes. They said it was the only way I'd ever get up in time for anything – which was true, really, bit annoying – but all those years, I never managed to stop it going off," he pointed his sonic screwdriver at it, and the klaxon kept wailing. "Still can't." He checked his screwdriver carefully. "Still working, luckily it's not powered by the same energy as the TARDIS," he explained to Donna, who was buried under the pillow again, "But that really _is_ interesting," he gushed, staring round the room and talking to each wall in turn and finally the ceiling, "the room managed to copy machinery _light years_ ahead of its time, which leads me to wonder-"

"Doctor!" Donna bellowed, her voice muffled by the pillow, "_Turn. Off. The. __**ALARM**__!_"

"-why Voldemort hasn't just used it to make weapons of mass destruction or – oh, _yes_!" he exclaimed, eyes darting around and mouth moving at a hundred miles an hour. "If I could just find a container, I might be able to give the room a sample of artron energy so that it can…" he stopped himself abruptly. "Magic can't be used to replicate life force," he remembered, "well, of course not-"

"_DOCTOR_!"

"-or every tyrant around would use it to try to keep himself alive forever…it'd be _easy_…" he absent-mindedly flicked a switch and the klaxon stopped.

"At _last_," Donna exclaimed, getting out of bed and stomping around the room in an apparent search for some clothes. "If you need me, I'll be in the shower. If there _is_ one."

The Doctor, still lost in his thoughts, only surfaced at the sound of the door shutting. "Oh, Donna?" he called, "it's-"

There was a sharp shriek of surprise from the bathroom.

"-cold," the Doctor finished lamely, staring at the bathroom door.

"_How_ do you adjust the temperature on this thing?" Donna yelled.

"Pull the yellow lever!"

"_Where_?"

"Next to the red dial-"

There was another shriek, followed by, "That made it _colder_!"

"The _yellow_ lever!" the Doctor shouted. "Hang on, I'll show-"

"You are _not_ coming in here, space boy!"

"Can't you put a towel on?"

"There _isn't one_!"

"You have to get out the shower and touch the button with a symbol of a towel on it!"

"_Why_," Donna demanded, opening the door a few moments later to glare at the Doctor, towel wrapped around her shivering form, "do you people have to make everything so _complicated_?"

"It's not complicated!" the Doctor replied indignantly, darting into the bathroom, only avoiding a fall by an impressive feat of gymnastics as he skidded along the floor, "see?"

He pulled a yellow lever down hard, put his hand under the water, and declared, "Warm. Perfect, in fact, if I do say so myself."

The only response he received from Donna was a scowl.

"Right, well…I'll just…go wait in the other room, shall I?"

"_Yeah_."

As he ducked out the door, he couldn't resist wishing her a 'nice shower' before running for his life as she threw a bottle of shampoo at him.

Picking up his wand, he diligently began to practice a silencing charm on himself, having a brief sticky moment where he couldn't un-Silence himself wordlessly, before finally mastering that and moving onto Disarming spells, aiming at a rapidly built dummy from the previous day, which simply fell over backwards, the stuffing exploding out of it.

"Oh. That's not right…"

He was just amusing himself by levitating himself across the room half an hour later when the main door opened and Snape stepped quickly inside, shutting the door after him.

"Hello!"

Snape looked up, visibly surprised though he tried to mask it with his habitual scowl. "Doctor?"

The Doctor waved, beaming as he floated leisurely along. "That's me! Good morning!"

"Loathe though I am to admit it, I didn't expect you to master magic quite so quickly."

"I'm more than just a flower fanatic, Headmaster," the Doctor replied, sinking gently to the ground. "So what brings you here so early in the morning?"

"We have moved your TARDIS," Snape said without preamble, "to Spinner's End-"

"_Spinner's End_? How did you manage to get it so far-"

"Magic carpets and Disillusionment spells serve their uses," Snape interrupted, visibly impatient. "There was also a meeting last night," he continued without pause, "during which the Dark Lord expressed a wish to meet you."

"Oh, really? I must say, I'm flattered."

Snape's eyes narrowed and his lips thinned, obviously not amused. "This is no joking matter, Doctor," he growled. "He plans to see you tomorrow, which leaves you with next to no time left to even attempt to learn Occlumency!"

"Right," the Doctor replied, "sorry. So what's the plan?"

"I have no choice but to implant false memories in your minds."

"False memories? That'll take hours!"

Snape gave a self satisfied smirk. "Fortunately, Headmaster Dumbledore left me means with which to travel in time, should such an occasion as this arise. Its use is limited, but I managed to stretch last night to last twenty four hours. I have some fabricated memories already, but I must make more-"

"But to do that you'd need to know our personalities. You only talked to us yesterday for an hour at most."

"You forget that you are meant to be Bartemus Crouch Junior, whom I have had the misfortune of knowing and working alongside for several years as a new recruit. Using what knowledge I had gleaned from him over the years, it was hardly difficult to replicate the important events of his life. As for Miss Noble – ten minutes in her mind was enough to form an impression of her '_personality_'."

"But…that's _brilliant_!"

Snape simply ignored the praise. "All I need now is to temporarily alter your more commonplace memories to fit your new personalities and to remove the more incriminating thoughts – time, space, your different companions– to be stored elsewhere."

"But how will we get the memories back?" Donna asked, making her presence in the room known for the first time. "The ones you change and remove, I mean."

"I will have to copy them and keep them stored safely so that I can change them back after the meeting," Snape replied. "Though I believe it to be more prudent to keep them removed until you have mastered Occlumency completely, Headmaster Dumbledore does not agree."

"Just one question," the Doctor interjected, holding up a finger, "why do you listen to him?"

Snape looked at him as though he were mad. "Because, Doctor, he is infinitely more experienced."

"But you're the spy, the one who's left behind," Donna pointed out. "Shouldn't what you think is safe be more important?"

"Apparently," Snape ground out, "personal identity is essential in times of conflict – a pity, given that yours could use some improvement."

Donna's mouth dropped open. "You can't talk, you stuck up-"

"_Any_way," the Doctor interrupted pointedly, "I really don't think you need to teach me Occlumency, Headmaster."

"Given that I, a human, managed to penetrate your mind, Doctor, I would not be so arrogant."

"I had my mental shields down!"

"In the presence of the Dark Lord, that would mean your death. If you are so confident, you must demonstrate to me your abilities, and if I remain dissatisfied you _will_ be taught."

"Blimey," the Doctor muttered, "are you always this dictatorial in the classroom?"

"It keeps the students in line and, incidentally, my classroom in one piece. Pandemonium in a Potions lesson would be disastrous, Doctor, as even one as disorganised as yourself must be aware."

"JK Rowling really wasn't joking, was she; you really _do_ enjoy insulting people," Donna stated, annoyed, then raised her eyebrows. "Do you get a kick out of it or something?"

Snape sighed, clearly exasperated. "I do not have time for this," he stated brusquely. "Doctor, if you are prepared?"

"What, _now_?"

"Yes, '_now_'. I don't care about your current attire or state of dishevelment, Doctor, nor do I hold any sympathy for your lack of breakfast. Time is of the essence and I'm rapidly losing patience with both of you."

"Yes…I can see that. Alright," the Doctor held out his wand, which Snape took, "go ahead."

"Thank you," Snape drawled sarcastically, pocketing the instrument and then pointing his own between the Doctor's eyes. "_Legilimens_!"

Donna was left staring as Snape blinked mere seconds later. "You have an undoubtedly powerful mind," he admitted reluctantly, "but are clearly a novice at the art of subtlety. Barty would never use such obvious defences. You need misdirection, not mental walls. I will search for the memory of yesterday's conversation and you must hide it. Misdirect me. If I find it, alter it in some way."

"It's been a while since I've needed anything other than shields," the Doctor confessed. "I'm out of practice."

"Then I suggest that you get practising. _Legilimens_!"

The two men seemed to be at a deadlock, neither of them blinking, just staring at each other intensely. Snape's grip on his wand increased as his hand began to shake while the Doctor stood rigidly. Finally, the two men blinked and the connection was cut as Snape withdrew from the Doctor's mind, staring at him.

"You have many faces."

"Yeah, that's a bit hard to explain-"

"I understand perfectly," Snape snapped, impatient, "I was in your mind, but I should not have seen the images. The Dark Lord cannot be allowed to draw the same conclusion as I did from your own mind – your misdirection is adequate. Adequate shall not keep you alive."

"He can practice-" Donna began, but Snape cut her off.

"There is no time," Snape said, emphasising every word. "I have no doubt that you can properly re-master the skill after several days, given your apparent ability to learn at high speed, but we don't have them."

"What about a Time Turner?"

"_Time Turner_," the Doctor repeated, slapping himself on the forehead. "_That's_ what it's called! How could I forget that? I must be going senile…"

"I will only make use of it if necessary," Snape said. "Time travel is both dangerous and undesirable."

"I wouldn't call it that," the Doctor protested.

"Put some robes on, Doctor," Snape instructed, looking him up and down and ignoring his last comment, "we have a lot of work to do."

"Hang on a minute? What about me?" Donna demanded. "I haven't got any robes – that replicator thing in the bathroom gave me normal clothes!"

"You are a muggle, you don't need robes," Snape explained, as the Doctor hurried around the bathroom.

The silence began to stretch and Donna, casting desperately about for something to say, finally settled on; "so, you're on Harry Potter's side then."

Snape sneered at her. "Obviously."

"Do the others – McGonagall, Hagrid…Harry – do they know?"

"Do your precious books not tell you?" Snape sneered, volunteering no more information.

"I never read the last one. Some people told me what happened in the end; how you d – become Headmaster, what happens to Harry, that sort of thing, but I don't know any of the little details like who knows what. I'm still on the 'Half Blood Prince' – bit of a slow reader, really."

"Then you know what became of my predecessor."

"Yes – but that portrait, in your office, it still talks to you. If you really had betrayed him it wouldn't do that." She paused, searching his face. "And you didn't want to kill him, did you, because you hate it when anyone mentions him. You try to hide it, but-"

"You go too far, Miss Noble," Snape hissed, taking his wand out of his pocket reflexively.

"What are you going to do," Donna scoffed, "_Obliviate me_?"

"No one's obliviating anyone!" the Doctor declared, stepping out of the bathroom and shrugging on a black robe.

"It may be necessary."

"Just remove the memory and put it somewhere else, like you'll do with all the others," the Doctor said quickly. "And in future, Donna, if you work out something important about someone, you don't _tell_ them!"

"Like _you_ can talk, Mister 'I want to discuss your end-the-world-plan and get a gun stuck in my face'!"

"No one can find out, Donna, or it'll mean his death and no one will be left to help Harry. He's crucial to the war effort."

"But he's-"

"Not another word, Donna. Spoilers."

"But we could save him!" Donna protested, ignoring the warning look directed at her. "Look at the books, we're not meant to be here – maybe this alternate universe ends differently!"

"We don't know that. That… _point_ in the book could be a fixed fact between universes – him being Headmaster is."

"Are you _quite_ finished?" Snape demanded, irritably.

The Doctor turned to stare at him curiously. "Aren't you the least bit interested? This is your fate, your future!"

"My time has been up for years," Snape said dismissively. "I hold no interest for events that are inevitable."

"But you must want to stay alive for a reason," the Doctor pointed out, raising his eyebrows to tell Snape that he knew exactly what he was talking about. "Don't you even want to see if you manage to?"

"I have heard enough from you to gather an idea of the outcome," Snape said dismissively, though his expression seemed torn. "I either survive or I fail. There is nothing more to it."

"Reckon I touched a nerve there," the Doctor muttered to Donna as they stepped into the corridor, the door melting back into the wall as they closed it.

"_Now_ I wish I'd read the book."

They walked on in silence for several minutes, encountering no one, not even the ghosts, who seemed to be avoiding Snape. The portraits booed and hissed as Snape stalked past, their disapproval melting into curious chatter bordering on outrage as the Doctor and Donna followed him.

"This has to be one of my most unlucky regenerations," the Doctor whispered to Donna as one portrait gave him a particularly rude gesture.

Donna glared at it then turned back to the Doctor. "You'll have to get used to it, Doctor, just like I have to get used to being a _muggle_."

The Doctor gave her a sideways glance. "You _are_ a muggle."

"At _home_, not _here_." Donna sighed theatrically. "And that _cat_," she shivered, "following me around everywhere…"

"I thought you liked cats."

"I like _cats_," Donna emphasised, "not rangy, silent, feline spies with hoards of fleas and _rabies_-"

"Well that's going a bit far…"

"-and _shedding-_"

Snape turned round to glare at her, cutting off her rant, and then billowed around a corner, not saying a word.

"He's grim."

"It's just the way he is, Donna."

Donna snorted. "So you're saying he was _born_ a bat?"

They rounded the corner and stopped in surprise, coming face to face with a moving staircase that seemed to stretch into infinity above them, grinding in many different directions like an enchanted crane. Donna gasped and the Doctor stared, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"That's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "Really, really – I never knew they'd be so long-"

Before he could say more, Snape fixed him with another of his deadly glares, and the Doctor nodded his head apologetically.

"Right. Forgot."

Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer of disgust and they walked past the staircase, further down the corridor and past several suits of armour until they came once again to the stone gargoyles guarding the Headmaster's office. As they climbed the spiral staircase, Snape continued to glare them into silence until they were safely inside the room, door shut and privacy charms set up.

"Do neither of you have any sense of discretion?" he demanded. "Portraits, contrary to what many believe, talk amongst themselves, and should they hear you reacting as though you have never set foot in Hogwarts, our entire scheme will be exposed before it can begin!"

"I really don't think that-"

"For such a self proclaimed genius," Snape interrupted, apparently reaching the end of his tether, "you are remarkably dull-witted. If you cannot think before you act, I shall have no choice but to leave you to your own means, stranded in our universe."

"You can't do that!" Donna protested loudly, staring at Snape. "You promised-"

"A promise to a time travelling couple," Snape hissed, "means nothing next to the possibility of global annihilation of muggle-borns! If you cannot prove to me that you take your situation seriously, I will charm a Portkey to carry you as far away from Hogwarts as possible and convince the Dark Lord that you have gone insane and are planning an uprising." His mouth twisted into a disturbing smile. "At the very least, it will provide enough of a distraction for us to catch up in the war."

There was a pregnant pause.

"There is no need to go quite that far, Severus," Dumbledore's portrait chimed in mildly.

Snape looked as though he might tear out his hair any moment as he glared at the calm old man.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I believe," he said gently, as though he didn't want to add to Snape's stress but seemed to find a small level of amusement from it, "that you need to prepare for the meeting?"

Snape actually seemed to quiver on the spot, lips trembling with rage, until he swirled around, robes flaring out impressively behind him as he growled something about the world in general conspiring against him. As Snape stalked over to the Pensieve and angrily summoned empty glass jars from another room, Dumbledore caught the Doctor's eye and winked, mouth twitching.

oOo

The Doctor reeled for the third time that hour, almost falling out of his chair in the process, only Donna's arms keeping him in place.

They had begun work on the Doctor first, removing all vital information that Snape could not trust him to hide, but leaving in enough that he remembered something of his basic identity. Someone, Dumbledore had pointed out, needed to remember details about the TARDIS and their arrival, should Voldemort wish to question them.

After removing each memory relating to a regeneration, Snape would question the Doctor, checking to see that technical knowledge of the TARDIS remained but nothing incriminating was present. False memories of research and construction would then be placed in the Doctor's mind, and the Doctor would weave it seamlessly together with the bare facts.

Snape blinked, placing his wand briefly on the desk behind which he sat. "What is your name?"

"The Doctor."

"What do you introduce yourself as?"

"Bartemus Crouch Junior."

Snape leaned forward. "Tell me about Martha Jones."

The Doctor blinked blankly. "I don't know a Martha Jones."

"Sarah Jane Smith."

The Doctor simply blinked again and Donna bit down on her lip.

"Rose Tyler."

"She was my friend," the Doctor admitted for what seemed like the tenth time so far.

Snape muttered something under his breath, looking annoyed. "You have hidden a vital memory from me again."

"He can't help it!" Donna ground out, staring at Snape. "He really _wants_ to remember her. He's probably hiding them without even realising!"

Snape ignored her, staring instead at the Doctor. "Tell me of the time you last saw her."

The Doctor swallowed, face torn, before he opened his mouth and the words seemed to crawl out, reluctant to be heard. "The Daleks and the Cybermen attacked…please, I don't want…" he swallowed and Donna's heart caught in her throat. "I _need_ to remember that, Headmaster, please don't-"

"_Legilimens_!"

The Doctor's head jerked and his eyes widened as Snape tore through his mind. Cloudy, colourful mist seemed to swirl out of the Doctor's head and into the jar that Snape held ready, Donna watching helplessly.

She glanced at the Pensieve which sat perched on the table, the lies that would be the Doctor's new memories floating around inside, their colour dark and foreboding.

Snape's voice snapped her back to the two men who were once again back in the real world, panting from the effort of the spell.

"Who is Rose Tyler?"

The Doctor's eyes were blank and his voice confused. "Who? Headmaster, you know I've only ever been with Donna."

"And before that?"

The Doctor frowned. "Before? There was no 'before'. I've always been with her."

"What of your childhood?"

"I don't…" the Doctor stared at Snape suspiciously. "What have you done to me?"

"Only what is necessary," Snape replied. "Tell me of the Cybermen."

"I had a dream, years and years ago, that men made of metal were coming to kill me – all I could hear were these…these _voices_, like computers, they kept saying 'delete'." The Doctor laughed, a slightly nervous sound that didn't suit him at all. "Too much Muggle television, if you ask me."

"You've changed it all," Donna gasped. "You've made it…none of it's real anymore! He doesn't remember our adventures – I'm just someone he _knows_!"

"It has simply become another symptom of Barty's insanity."

"But – does this mean that he doesn't know he's an alien?"

"He knows," Snape confirmed. "Or rather, he thinks he knows. The mind Healers would most likely be baffled."

"You're a monster!" Donna exclaimed, fighting the urge to slap the man. "You've taken away-"

"He _agreed_ to it!"

"He agreed to be _allowed_ to hide his own basic identity, not to have you hide it from him! When he finds out he's going to be _livid_," Donna spat. "To think he _trusted_ you!"

"Then he should have known better!" Snape growled, losing his temper. "As it is, I have taken a great risk in allowing him to remember anything about the Doctor-"

"_Remember? _He _is_ the Doctor!"

"And he knows it!" Snape hissed. "He knows who he is but he also knows that throughout his life he has referred to himself as Barty to avoid suspicion-"

"You're saying he's some sort of _schizophrenic_? Does he know _why_ he does that or even _what_ the Doctor is?"

"That, Miss Noble, would be too much information to hide."

"You said he was _good_ at Occlumency!"

"'Good' is not good enough! He _agreed_ to let me judge how much he was capable of hiding, and after his unsuccessful attempt earlier, this is the level I judged him able to hide."

"But _look at him_!" Donna all but screeched, jabbing her finger at the Doctor, who was sitting silently in the chair, watching them with unguarded curiosity but seemingly uninterested in speaking. "He's practically a _vegetable_!"

"He is a template. He still has the intelligence of the Doctor-"

"Stop talking about him like that, like he's someone else!"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Doctor," he muttered, suddenly looking exhausted, "take the memories from the Pensieve and put them in your mind, link them with your knowledge."

"Memories? I don't need any memories."

"I took your childhood out of your mind so that I could examine it more closely," Snape lied. "You need the memories back."

"Why would you do that?" the Doctor demanded, beginning to look confused and more than just a little lost. "Snape, I don't remember-"

"I do not have time for this," Snape growled, stalking around the desk and hauling the Doctor out of his chair, propelling him towards the Pensieve. "_Take them_."

The Doctor glanced at Donna, who wanted desperately to tell him to run and hide, to never come back. Instead, she heard herself telling him to listen to Snape.

One by one, the Doctor put the poison memories into his mind, his expression changing with each one, becoming uglier and uglier but his eyes appearing more and more lost.

When he had finished, he turned around and glared at Snape. "I haven't even been here for two days," he growled, "and you're already prowling through my mind."

"Doctor-"

"I told you not to call me that, Noble!"

Donna felt tears welling in her eyes as she looked at the stranger in her friend's skin. "But that's your _name_, Doctor."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't start _crying_ again, for the love of Merlin! You Muggles, so childlike. You _cry_ constantly, you moan and you whinge," his mouth pulled into a ghastly sneer, "you're all the same. A pathetic race of bleating-"

"Stop it!" Donna bellowed, jumping to her feet. "Snape! You said that – _mphf!_"

With a flick of his wand, Snape had silenced her and tied her back to her chair.

"You're not fit to wear his mark!" the Doctor continued to rant, yanking up his left sleeve and shoving it in Donna's face. "Look at it! I've seen those ridiculous parodies you Muggles get, those who _pretend_ to be Death…" he trailed off, staring at the unblemished skin. "Where's my Mark?" He whirled around and pointed his wand at Snape. "_What have you done_?"

And Snape, eyes fixed on the pale skin of the Doctor's forearm, seemed to be lost for words.


	5. Time Is Running Out

**5. Time is Running Out.**

_"You're not fit to wear his Mark!" the Doctor continued to rant, yanking up his left sleeve and shoving it in Donna's face. "Look at it! I've seen those ridiculous parodies you Muggles get, those who pretend to be Death…" he trailed off, staring at the unblemished skin. "Where's my Mark?" He whirled around and pointed his wand at Snape. "What have you done?"_

_And Snape, eyes fixed on the pale skin of the Doctor's forearm, seemed to be lost for words. _

oOo

Snape stood, staring, while the Doctor ranted and raved, his eyes bright and wild, his wand waving around the room as his arms flailed. Donna sat frozen in shock, completely at a loss. Across the room, Dumbledore's portrait was completely silent, for once doing nothing to interfere.

"What have you done, Snape?" the Doctor demanded; spit beginning to fly from his mouth. "Give it back, you traitor, or the Dark Lord-"

"Use your mind," Snape barked at last, looking to Donna as the Doctor did when he had just been inspired. "How or why would I have anything to gain from getting rid of your Mark? Its removal is impossible."

"Yes, you would know all about that, Snape, wouldn't you? I suppose a traitor to my Lord like you would have taken the first opportunity to get rid of his influence! You-"

"Am not a traitor, Barty, if you would simply think about it! I work at Hogwarts as the Dark Lord's Headmaster – I _killed_ Dumbledore. He lies there, in his tomb. _Rotting_," Snape sneered, a vicious expression on his face. "The greatest wizard-"

"You admit that you think the fool was a great wizard?" the Doctor demanded. "Our Lord-"

"Was afraid of him, and charged me with his murder-"

"It must have been a plot! If the Dark Lord could not kill him-"

"Our Lord's defeats were strategic. When it became clear that Dumbledore could not be killed in a duel, he ordered someone dependable, close to the fool, to kill him. And he succeeded. If you need proof, look at the portrait."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed, and Snape tensed. Cursing, Donna knew, the Doctor's intelligence.

"It seems a bit quiet."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Do you expect it to be shouting insults at me? Wreaking havoc in my study?" he was sneering now. "Burn itself in protest?"

"I don't trust you, Snape."

"You should," Snape said simply, adding pointedly; "Doctor."

The Doctor visibly jumped. "Doctor? How-"

"You told me," Snape replied.

Donna decided that now was not the time to point out that she had used the Doctor's self-appointed name earlier in the conversation. If the Doctor had forgotten it in his fit of anger, it could only play in their favour. Snape obviously had a plan, and even though she hated him, she would not ruin it. Besides, the Doctor needed a lie for why he had no Mark, if they were to believe Snape's comment about there being a later meeting involving them.

"But..." the Doctor seemed to be lost, hand half lowering his wand and eyes fixed on Snape's face. "No one except Noble knows that."

"Yet I do."

"You went through my mind!" the Doctor announced, suddenly furious again, snapping his wand back into position. "You told me yourself to put my memories back in-"

"I am surrounded by idiots for twenty four hours," Snape growled, "seven days a week, for months on end, Barty, and I can tell you that you are not one of them, but you seem to be doing a good impression of it! Think about it – I am _on your side-_"

"You-"

"Let," Snape ground out dangerously, "me finish. Dumbledore," he said, lifting up one finger, "dead. Potter," he lifted up another finger, "barred from this school, even if he is foolish enough to come back. You," he said, third finger joining the others, "have not been handed over to the authorities." A fourth finger came up. "I have not reported your lack of Mark. I have not used any evidence against you; I have kept your ridiculous machine safe. Finally," he concluded, last finger forming a hand in a stationary wave, "word must have travelled, even to you, that I was the loyal Death Eater who informed our Lord of the Prophecy."

Snape's lips formed his habitual sneer and he wiggled his fingers ever so slightly, the message obvious. "Surely even you can count to five."

There was a tense silence throughout the room, even the portraits no longer bothering to pretend that they were asleep. The Doctor stood stock still, eyes narrowed onto Snape's expressionless face, focussing on his eyes. His mouth formed silent words and, though Snape stiffened, he seemed to let the Doctor into his mind.

Finally, the Doctor spoke. "What happened then," he demanded gruffly, "since you seem to know everything."

Snape allowed himself a small smile, relaxing a small fraction. "I see that you have mastered Legilimency at long last, Barty."

The Doctor grunted. "I had good reason to learn. Being under my own _father's _imprisonment taught me that necessity was a good enough motive."

Donna's heart broke to hear the new bitterness in the Doctor's voice, to see the new set that his face had taken on, cruelty deeply embedded in his eyes and mouth. His tone, normally so calm and relaxed, informal, was now tight and controlled, the voice of a killer. It was a voice that she had only heard in use a few times, when they had come across aliens that he had been forced to stop.

She was finally beginning to realise just how dangerous the Doctor could be.

"So tell me," the Doctor continued to press, words coming more sharply as his curiosity got the better of him, "what happened to my Mark."

"You are a powerful wizard," Snape said, apparently reluctant to allow the praise, "but even you cannot overcome the laws of time travel."

The Doctor frowned. "What do you mean? Time travel doesn't pose any problems – people do it all the time."

"With Time Turners, yes," Snape conceded. "They do not, however, use newly tested technology combined with magic, such as your... _machine_ to travel years into the future."

"That wasn't intentional. It was meant to be just a day – enough to know that it worked. Enough that the Dark Lord would have-"

"A welcome home present," Snape finished, a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth betraying his true emotions. "An idea with merit, I must admit, but distinctly flawed. You did not test it properly, before you started your experiment."

It was not a question.

The Doctor frowned. "No...I didn't."

Before the Doctor could wonder about this uncharacteristic shoddiness, Snape continued. "You could not know, then, what the results of the experiment could be. In this case, it erased a mark fixed at a certain point in time and broke your _machine_. The lack of Mark on your arm," Snape finished, "is your own doing."

"You can't be certain of that, _Snape_. You know nothing about how my machine works."

"Yet I know that the disappearance of your Mark corresponds with your arrival here. My role in this conversation," Snape said smoothly, no hint of lie on his face, "is simply to theorise. Research if you must, but you will get nowhere without your machine."

_And by then_, Donna thought, finishing Snape's sentence, _the Doctor will be back_. She frowned. He _was_ the Doctor. Not Barty. _Definitely_ not Barty. She nodded, agreeing with her reasoning.

The Doctor glanced sharply at her. "What are you nodding at, Noble?"

Donna blinked, unused to being talked to like that where the Doctor was concerned. "I was just..." she glanced quickly at Snape, feeling trapped by the Doctor's intense gaze, "thinking it through. I didn't understand everything you said about time travel."

"And you _just_ worked it out," the Doctor snorted. "Well of course you wouldn't get it," he said, looking her up and down, "you're a Muggle."

Donna's mouth dropped open. "Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that, you-"

"Enough," Snape said, silencing her with a warning glare, his wand poking through his robe sleeve as a warning of what would happen if she disobeyed. "We have other problems. Namely," he continued, turning to the Doctor, "how to get your Mark back."

"What do you mean, 'back'?" Donna demanded, determined not to be left out of the conversation. "Wouldn't you have to go back to Voldemort to-"

"Don't speak his name, Noble!" the Doctor shouted. "I've told you before – don't you ever _listen_?"

Donna's glare was made of ice. "I'm just a stupid _Muggle_, remember?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to retort, but Snape smoothly interrupted before he could. "Your time machine has technology inside that is independently powered, I assume?"

The Doctor had a small smile on his face now. "I could use the Medassinonian skin transplanter to replicate your Mark and place it on my arm. The Mark isn't designed to a specific person," he said, rushing on as the Doctor had done when he still had his memory, "so the Dark Lord won't notice the difference, even if he tries to call me for an individual meeting."

"You mean...the Mark is a template?" Donna asked. "Like some sort of branding system the Muggles use on cattle?"

Snape's eyebrows rose at that remark, his mouth twitching in amusement, and Dumbledore was forced to start combing through his beard with his fingers to avoid betraying his own smile. The Doctor, on the other hand, looked both insulted and livid.

"The Dark Lord's Mark is so much more," he snapped, yet still managing to sound passionate. "We wear it with pride, as a symbol of our loyalty, our link to our eternal Master."

Donna cocked her head to the side. "I bet that's what a sheep would say about a shepherd."

The Doctor's face contorted, a mad light dancing in his eyes as he looked at the defiant woman who used to be his companion, before he appeared to decide to let the matter drop with one final derogatory comment.

"You'll find out soon enough, Noble, when you Muggles are all in their proper places."

"If you will follow me, Barty," Snape drawled, "I will take you to your time machine so that you can replicate my Mark. How long will the process take?"

"It varies depending on the skin template. It could take five minutes, it could take five hours. After it is finished, it will look like it's always been there," he added, as though reassuring himself.

Snape nodded once, then walked over to the door and unlocked it with a single muttered word, jerking his head once to indicate that the Doctor should walk through it. "You first. I must see to your assistant. Muggles are notoriously good at ruining things, and I do not feel like redecorating my new office."

The Doctor laughed cruelly. "Make sure you Silence her as well. For her, silence is torture." With that, he disappeared down the spiral staircase and Snape set up a spell which Donna presumed to be a Privacy Charm.

"You've gone too far, Plant Boy," she said immediately, doing nothing to hide her annoyance. "Look at him! He's – he's _insane_!"

"At least he is no longer almost catatonic."

"Is that meant to be _good_?" Donna demanded. "Because it doesn't look that way to me! The Doctor would never do anything like he's just done! He'd _never_ say any of those things!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "For all intents and purposes, he is no longer the Doctor. I have only done what is necessary to ensure your survival."

"Well you could have done it _better_!"

"I do not need more casualties to foolishness," Snape countered.

"But he doesn't know who he is!"

"I am not going to argue with you again," Snape muttered. "What is done is done. I am going to keep an eye on your Doctor and ensure that the Mark transfer works. Your survival could very well depend upon it."

He started to move towards the door, cancelling the spell as he went, but Donna grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute – what about me?"

"You will remain here." He tapped her on the head with his wand. "I have Disillusioned you, and I will lock the office in my absence, but you must remain as silent as possible should you be alerted to any presence whatsoever, is that understood?"

"I've done this before, you know, I'm not a _complete_ idiot."

Again, that wry half smile appeared, but was gone so fast that Donna half thought she had imagined it. "Then we are partway to an agreement."

Donna frowned, catching the insult, but decided to bypass it. "But what about my memories? How much time have we got left?"

Snape lifted something out of one of his many inside robe pockets and held it in what he thought was her line of sight, but was actually slightly to her left. "I will return for you."

A swish of his black robes, and he was gone, the door shutting behind him so silently that it was almost as if it was never open in the first place.

Donna sighed and picked a seat at random, lowering herself into it and marvelling at the fact that she could not see any part of her body. She reached out to touch the Pensieve, wanting to smash it into pieces, but her hand went straight past it, landing with a soft 'thunk' on the table and almost knocking over a pot of ink.

Dumbledore's portrait chuckled. "I rather think that you should remain still, my dear girl."

Donna snorted. "You don't say."

The blue eyes seemed to stare straight through her even though she knew that she was invisible. "He was only trying to help," Dumbledore said gently.

"Just like he was 'only trying to help' you?"

"My death was my own doing."

"Your _own doing_?" Donna repeated, incredulous despite herself. "He _murdered_ you!"

"After I convinced him to." Dumbledore shifted his head to the side and peered at her over his half moon spectacles. "Which I believe you knew already," he observed. "Why are you so determined to think badly of Severus?"

"He _ruined_ my friend's _mind_! What _isn't_ bad about that?"

Dumbledore sighed. "He did what was necessary, for your benefit. In the future, you will be grateful to him."

Donna pondered that for a moment, shrugging her shoulders in the closest she would get to an admission of being wrong. Besides, she wasn't about to forgive Snape for breaking the Doctor's confidence as he did and turning him into a monster.

"How did you die?"

Bright blue eyes met her words with surprise and Donna mentally kicked herself.

"If you don't mind me asking," she added.

Dumbledore chuckled. "How did I die in your universe?"

"Snape-"

"Headmaster Snape." The correction appeared to be automatic.

"_Headmaster Snape_," Donna conceded, fighting the urge to roll her eyes or smile. Or both. "He used a Killing Curse. You begged for him not to, but he did it anyway. He did it because Malfoy – Draco Malfoy," she clarified, "couldn't, and it was either that or letting you go to...well, someone less kind..." she trailed off, fully realising what that meant for the first time. "He did it to save you, didn't he?"

Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling. "I believe that, just as he did in my universe, he did it so that I would avoid a fate worse than death at Voldemort's hands."

"So how did you die – was it exactly like it was in the books? I mean, did you go Horcrux hunting and get almost killed-"

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "Interesting. How did I manage to let myself get attacked by a Horcrux and sustain an injury that almost killed me?"

"...I don't know. I haven't read the books. But people have told me – people who read them – that you tried to wear one, and you ended up with a withered hand. Literally rotting flesh, black and...well, you get the idea."

The other eyebrow had by now joined its companion.

"I take it that didn't happen to you then."

Dumbledore shook his head wryly. "I never tried to wear a Horcrux while I hunted them. I did, however, manage to get myself poisoned by my own Potions Master." He shook his head at Donna's wide eyed expression. "I asked him to do it, much to his disapproval. Voldemort had been too long in hiding, and I decided that then was as good a time as any to find a cure for Nagini's poison, using samples that we had saved from her victims."

"But it went haywire."

"Voldemort discovered my attempts and demanded that Severus add real poison to the antidote before I tested it. Severus told me immediately, of course, and I refused to let him sacrifice his position as a spy because of failure."

"You just _threw _your life away?"

"I was an old man," Dumbledore explained. "I was dying already, and rather than fade away in my sleep, I decided to make my death worthwhile. I played the typical Gryffindor and tested the antidote myself. Severus' poison – which I had asked him to make untraceable – took effect within a few hours. I died, rather dramatically, during the final school assembly."

Donna stared at him. "How did you get him to agree with it? He's stubborn – he would never have given up without a fight."

"Being one of the most powerful wizards in the world certainly has its advantages. I am also particularly gifted at the art of rhetoric, if I do say so myself."

"You _talked_ him into it?"

"He could not refuse. It has accelerated the war to a point where we no longer have to guess Voldemort's next move."

"But you're _dead_! You were the only one capable of defeating him!"

"If I were truly the only one capable of defeating him," Dumbledore replied reasonably, "I would have succeeded long before my death. I had many opportunities during various duels, but he survives. Harry is the only one capable of succeeding where I could not."

"He's a _boy_!"

"He is necessary," Dumbledore stated. "It must be him, or Voldemort may very well live forever."

"But-"

The door opened suddenly and without warning. Donna clamped her mouth shut around her protests and attempted to keep herself completely still, feeling ridiculously like an invisible statue. The instinct to hide was strong, but she knew that if she moved she would give away her position. A wry voice at the back of her mind noted that she would never get used to being invisible but audible.

Snape stepped through, looking exhausted, as though he had been away hours instead of minutes. His hair was dishevelled and his eyes had dark circles underneath them; his gait was slightly unsteady as he turned and shut the door behind him, leaning his hand against it for a brief moment.

"Where's the Doctor?" Donna asked, noticing that no one else was about to come into the room.

Snape stiffened immediately, turning around, his face a blank mask. "I left him in the TARDIS to finalise the transfer process while I came to 'collect' you. I plan to return to him in five minutes."

"What about my memories?" Donna asked as her body came back into view with a flick of Snape's wand. She breathed a short sigh of relief.

Snape sighed and sank into a chair. "We shall deal with them now," he replied, looking as though he would much rather drop into bed and stay there for a week.

"Severus," Dumbledore's portrait said gently, "I told you not to overuse the Time Turner."

"I had no choice."

"How long have you been awake?" Donna asked.

"Too long," Snape muttered, apparently not realising what he was saying even as he said it. "I used the Time Turner to extend the night of your arrival to last long enough to prepare false memories, and I have used it to return here in time to change your memories yet still get back to the Doctor five minutes after I left."

Donna blinked, wondering if she would ever get the hang of time travel. "You left there, travelled back in time, came here, and now have to live through today all over again?"

"Simply phrased, yes," Snape sneered.

"And Legilimency isn't exactly a walk in the park." At Snape's expression, she added; "I saw the way you and the Doctor looked after you finished changing his memories. You were both exhausted."

"Extracting memories from a mind requires a considerable amount of magical energy and discipline, as does creating false memories. It did not help me," Snape growled, "that the Doctor fought me every step of the way."

"He couldn't help it!"

"I am aware of the fact."

"Then you can't blame him for something you _know_ he didn't mean to do!"

"I do not have time for this," Snape murmured, aware that yet another argument was starting. "Keep your eyes open and your mind relaxed. I am going to extract the memory of watching the Doctor's transformation first. _Legilimens_!"

Donna's eyes widened and she felt herself drifting back into her own mind, watching once more in horror as the Doctor's face changed before her own eyes. In the next instant, she frowned. Nothing had changed, had it? Why was she even looking for change? They were just talking about the meeting, nothing more.

Suddenly, she found herself staring back into Snape's tired eyes across the table, and blinked.

"Tell me what you remember."

"You came to collect us from the Room of Requirement," Donna said slowly, casting her mind back to what seemed like days ago. "We came here, and you explained that we had a meeting to get ready for." She frowned, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "You and the Doctor left to sort out his Mark, and now here we are."

Snape nodded in satisfaction. "Good," he said, and Donna somehow knew that he wasn't talking to her. "Now, your memories of the aliens. _Legilimens_!"

oOo

Several hours later, Snape slumped back into his chair, eyes beginning to droop even as he struggled to keep them open. Donna sat there, terrified, her mind a blur as she wondered what this man had done with Master Crouch.

Ah...now she remembered. She nodded. That was it. Their travel through time had removed Master Crouch's Mark, and Snape had helped him fix it. Then...she frowned. Then, Snape had come back here and searched her memories to see if she was loyal to Master Crouch.

But it was obvious, wasn't it? She would always be loyal to him. She could hardly consider otherwise. Her family –

She swallowed, blinking back tears. She wouldn't think of that, not now. She had done such a good job of keeping herself together, recently. She couldn't cry. Muggles _always _cried, she knew, and she didn't want to be just an ordinary Muggle.

Being an ordinary Muggle would get them killed. And she had to save them.

Snape's head dropped forward and he seemed to struggle to sit up straight, panting from the effort. A ripple of protest ran through the portraits, row upon row of them staring at Snape as though seeing him for the first time. An old man with blue eyes – Donna had a vague feeling that she had talked to him before, but couldn't remember when – looked on with a solemn expression.

Donna swallowed. She had been trained to show all Death Eaters respect, or she would suffer the consequences later. At least, that was how it had been with all of Master Crouch's friends, but she had never met this man before. Would he be different? Perhaps she should treat him in the same way just in case, or Master Crouch would –

Snape groaned and his arms shook as he managed to push himself, swaying dangerously, to his feet. Donna frowned, trying to remember how she had come to know who this man was in the first place. She had a vague memory of arriving at Hogwarts, but it was blurred by the concussion she had received from the crash.

She gulped. The crash that she had accidentally caused. Master Crouch was right; she really was an incompetent idiot.

Snape tripped and almost fell, catching himself on the edge of the desk and leaning on it, eyes closed, his knees half bent as he began to sink further towards the floor, his knuckles clutching the wood so tight that they were turning white.

A memory of Master Crouch's furious face at her frequent ineptitude shocked her back to reality and into action.

"H-Headmaster?" she hated the way she stuttered. Master Crouch had tried to force the habit out of her, but it had never worked, much to her dismay. The more perfect an assistant she was for him, the safer her family was when she went to visit them.

Snape's head lifted slowly, as if he was trying to lift it through treacle. He began to slip closer to the floor, his face suddenly washing of any small amount of colour it had already had.

"What is it?" she asked, voice quivering with fear of this new man. This new Death Eater. She swallowed, hating her weakness. "Tell me what you need."

"Strengthening Potion," he managed to rasp, before he lost his grip on the table completely.

Donna darted forward, catching him mere millimetres before he hit the floor, and lowered him into a sitting position as gently as she could with her shaking hands, leaning him back against one of the table legs. "Where is it?"

Snape leaned his head back against the leg, body almost completely limp. "Bedroom. First drawer."

Deciding that she would get no more specific description from him, Donna stood up and made her way over to a door at the far end of the room, ignoring the furniture and trinkets scattered about the office. Prying was rude. She had no right to look at his belongings.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob and turned back to look at Snape, whose chest was rising and falling with slower, more regular breaths now that he was in a settled position and no longer struggling to get the potion himself. His eyes snapped open before beginning to slip closed again, and it occurred to Donna that he was falling asleep.

If she could get out the room without him noticing...

She shook her head at that thought, turning the doorknob and stepping into the darkened room, noticing that the bed looked like it had not been slept in. If she tried to escape now, she would be safe, but she would have no way of ever seeing her family again. Every time she had been taken to visit them, they had Apparated, and she did not know where they were.

It was Master Crouch's way of keeping her under control.

She walked over to a bedside table and opened the first drawer, seeing several bottles of potions tucked away inside. She lifted them all out and moved them into the light so that she could better read the labels.

Dreamless Sleep...she put that back and moved onto the next. Pain Relief...Pepper-Up...Multi-Vitamin...

The last vial was the Strengthening Potion and she picked it up, not giving the others a second thought, hiding them back in the dark drawer before going back to Snape's side. He was breathing slowly now, one leg splayed at an odd angle and his arm reached out from his side as though he had taken one last ditch attempt to get up and failed.

His eyes were closed, his eyelashes brushing against the dark smudges under his eyes, throwing the paleness of his skin into sharp relief. A sad sigh made Donna glance up to find the blue eyed portrait once again watching her.

"You will have to wake him up, my dear girl," he said gently, as though he was, even as he said those words, trying not to wake the man on the floor. "But he will not take kindly to the knowledge that he fell asleep during a crisis."

Donna nodded silently, weighing that information up in her mind, before placing the potion out of smashing reach and shaking him roughly. Bleary eyes had barely focussed before a wand was trained over her heart.

"Potion," she explained, lifting it up for him to see now that he knew he wouldn't smash it as he woke. "You – you told me to get it, Headmaster."

Snape reached out shakily to grab it and Donna helped him to drink, surprised when he downed the whole lot without even consulting the dosage. A few minutes later and he was clambering back to his feet, scowling as though annoyed with the world in general, refusing Donna's attempt to help him.

He growled a word and an image of a clock showed in the air before his wand. "Nine o'clock," he muttered. "The Summons should come soon. We must return to Barty – I will Apparate us there."

Meekly, Donna followed him out of the office, trying desperately not to fantasize about the escape that had been just within her reach.


	6. Welcomes

**Author's Note: **I'm really very sorry that this chapter has taken so long to come, but I have literally been revising frantically for the past week or so. I am currently having a breather before I dive back in again :p Thank you to all those who have reviewed or added the story to their alerts – I haven't forgotten to reply, I just haven't had time. I will be doing that as I post this chapter – which I hope you enjoy!

**6. Welcomes.**

Donna shivered against the mild summer air, trying not to hyperventilate as a tall, skeletal man with a snake-like face strolled into the middle of the circle, parting cloaked men in his way with unconcealed ease. His very presence was enough to send some members of the circle into shivers – of fear or reverence, Donna could not tell, but she hardly thought it mattered to the man, as long as the outcome was the same.

Beside her, Master Crouch was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, contrasting the silent and rigid stance of Headmaster Snape on his other side. She was sure that, could she see his face, he would be smiling widely.

She tried not to let her true disgust and fear show as the circle suddenly started to bow and mutter as the man came to a halt. Vaguely, she was aware of Master Crouch's bony fingers pushing into her neck.

"Don't just stand there, Noble," he hissed as he grabbed her, "_bow_. This is your ultimate Master – the leader before whom the entire world will bow."

_Good for some_, she thought as she recognised the mad lilt to his voice. _But my family…_

"I have gathered you all here today," the high voice announced, sending chills down Donna's spine, "to welcome the return of one of my most loyal servants." The grotesque face smiled. "And, of course, to introduce his mentally limited female companion."

The masked Death Eaters laughed heartily, several offering catcalls to Donna, much to the creature's amusement.

"Bartemus Crouch," the man crowed, "my Azkaban-humbled servant – reveal yourself to me. I wish to see you."

Master Crouch's breath hitched.

"Do not hide behind Severus' spare mask," the voice continued silkily. "It has been a regrettably long time – and you missed my birthday, if I remember correctly."

Snickers.

The mask came off, revealing Master Crouch's face, forehead glistening with sweat, eyes mad with devotion. Donna idly wondered if this was the human equivalent of the house elves she had heard so much about.

Gasps. A ripple of speech. All eyes fixed upon her master's face.

If the man had possessed eyebrows, they would surely have risen in pleasant surprise. "Come to me."

Master Crouch stepped closer as if enchanted; once, twice, before he ran to his Master's feet, head bowed, kneeling in the dirt. "My Lord," he said enthusiastically, only daring to look into the red eyes for brief seconds, "I am honoured to be by your side once more."

The truth suddenly hit her like a sledge hammer, a belated bow to her consciousness - it was the Dark Lord. She was finally meeting the Dark Lord. Bile rose up in her throat as she looked at the monster surrounded by his faithful followers, but she forced herself to look as calm as she could. Fear and panic would not help her family now. She was still in control.

"I hear," the Dark Lord said, deliberately slowly and clearly so that all could understand the conversation, "that you have brought me a welcome gift?"

"I have!" Master Crouch exclaimed. "I researched for it endlessly, my Lord – for hours, I laboured to make it work! For you, my Lord, and for your final victory!"

The Dark Lord smiled and placed his palm on Master Crouch's hair, allowing him to regain his feet and stand before him, eye to eye. The crowd held its collective breath at this undisputed honour. "Let me see," the cold voice demanded, and suddenly his wand was out, pointed at Master Crouch's head, sending him writhing to the floor, his head craned at uncomfortable angles to keep eye contact with the red eyed monster.

Beside her, Snape stiffened slightly, though Donna did not understand why. _He_ was not going through the torture, whatever it was. He was safe, inside the crowd, next to Donna.

Master Crouch gasped and rolled onto all fours, coughing, while the Dark Lord stared at him, smiling as though he had just been awarded his greatest enemy's head on a silver platter.

"The rumours are true," he stated. "You have built me a time machine."

"You can win the war, my Lord," Master Crouch coughed, "by going back in time and freeing all the Death Eaters who ever died – we could have a mass army-"

"Yes," the Dark Lord hissed, fingering his wand slowly. "There is, however, one slight problem." His voice became hard. "You seem uncertain, Bartemus."

"Of course, my Lord – the machine was broken-"

"Show me," the Dark Lord interrupted, "your arm."

"My arm, my Lord? I'm loyal – I've _dreamt-_"

"_Your arm_."

The silence was almost tangible as Master Crouch rolled up his left sleeve, his eyes never leaving the Dark Lord's face. Red eyes narrowed.

"What is this?"

"I-" the kneeling man risked a glance at his arm, shoulders stiff, "-it's burnt," he concluded. "My equipment burnt me when it caught fire."

They both stared, eye to eye, for what seemed like an eternity. This time, Master Crouch was not knocked to the floor.

"Who did this?"

Donna closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.

"It was the Muggle, my Lord! She pressed the wrong button – she sent us spinning out of control! I had to drain all of the power supply just to stop us from hurtling into nothingness!"

"Bring the Muggle forward," the Dark Lord ordered, almost as though he was anticipating something wonderful.

Donna felt a brief and ridiculous wave of betrayal as Snape grabbed her arm and frogmarched her to the centre of the circle and threw her to the floor, next to Master Crouch, who glared at her as though she had caused everything wrong in the world.

"So you," the monster hissed as Snape rejoined the circle, "are responsible for this. Let me know how it happened – look me in the eyes, you foolish woman, I will learn nothing from you while you are staring at the ground."

Feeling like she was about to witness the world as she knew it exploding inside her head, Donna looked up, and found the unforgivably red eyes of the pale man before her.

She resisted the urge to snap her head back as his mind tore through hers, leaving destruction in its wake. It was hate incarnate, full of revenge and anger. It was full of grudges.

It wasn't a mind. It was a devil.

_The TARDIS swam into view, smoke beginning to emerge from the console she was working on. _

_ "Merlin – what have you done __**now**__, Noble? Can't you do __**anything**__ right?"_

_ "I'm – Master Crouch, I – I didn't-"_

_ "Quiet." He reached over her with his left arm, about to press a button, when the console exploded into flame, sparks licking at his sleeve. _

_ She watched as he jerked it back, snarling. An alarm began to blare. _

_ "I thought you were meant to be a Muggle technician," he spat. "Well, look where your __**skills**__ have got us now. Congratulations, Noble, you've broken the ship. We're going to crash."_

Her mind seemed to grow lighter as he withdrew, and she scrambled to put her mind to rights, her head pounding out a staccato rhythm.

Ignoring her, the Dark Lord cast a charm on her Master's arm. It glowed green, with red around the edges. As the colours began to fade, the Dark Lord's face relaxed to a minute degree.

"The Mark is intact," he announced. "You do not need to worry, Bartemus. Do you think that I would disgrace my followers with a Mark the mere _fire_ destroyed?" he chuckled. "My enchantments are stronger than that."

"I am relieved, my Lord."

"Yes…as you should be. But you, Muggle," the Dark Lord rounded on Donna. "Have you yet been punished for your transgression?"

"I-I-I-" she could not speak. She couldn't breathe. Sound began to muffle and the world began to swim.

"She has not, my Lord." So _that_ was what Master Crouch sounded like when being reprimanded.

Eyes widened as a substitute for raising eyebrows. "Crucio," he said, almost casually, flicking his wand at Donna.

She was engulfed in fire, her eyelids squeezed shut as though they were nailed so her sockets. Her body writhed and thrashed in the dirt as her mind floundered. Dimly, over the roaring in her ears, she could hear a voice.

"You have cost me my greatest weapon," it snapped, sounding suddenly on the verge of a complete breakdown into angry hysteria. "Your carelessness, your inability to think-"

She couldn't concentrate on the words. She didn't want to. She just wanted the pain, the constant torment, the searing _agony_, to end.

"-muggles are _useless_. You are the _epitome_ of-"

Fire. Pure, never-ending, everlasting fire. And pain. Nothing but pain, and darkness, and screams – make it stop – make it stop-

"Please! No – stop – stop – stop-"

"-just punishment! It is all you deserve-"

"I _can't_, please-"

She was going to break apart-

"PLEASE!"

"-for the future!"

Abruptly, it stopped. Donna gasped an almighty gasp, shuddering, finding that she was staring into the night strewn sky. She wanted desperately to go – up there. Anywhere. But definitely not here.

"Now," the voice continued, calmer now, "you will begin work on fixing my machine."

"It – it-"

An invisible force dragged her upwards and she lolled against it, still half sitting, staring helplessly into red eyes. "Do continue," it purred.

All instincts screamed at her to stop, to clam up, not to give him any information.

"It- it – needs – artron energy-"

"Artron energy?"

"It – powers the ship," she gasped out.

"I have never heard of it."

"It's a – a muggle word – it's energy – it's inside human beings…"

An oppressive silence. Then…

"Human beings?" Red eyes searched hers and, finding no lie, looked around at the assembled group. "The next time you kill," he said, his voice high and mirthful, "be sure to 'play with your food'. As the scum dies, seep their life force dry and store it, as you would store a memory or a potion. How much energy does it need?"

"A – a lot," she grimaced. "It depends – depends on – the source."

The Dark Lord smirked. "It seems," he said, loud enough for all to hear, "that there is no limit." He widened his arms. "Let the first of the raids begin!"

There were cheerful whoops at that and a hubbub of noise as the group readied itself for battle. The Dark Lord raised a single finger, and a figure remained behind as the others disappeared, vanishing without a trace.

"My Lord, you are most generous," Master Crouch said, getting eagerly to his feet.

"Your initiative shall be rewarded, Bartemus. Tell Amycus that he is now the Dark Arts teaching assistant – _you_ shall be professor. If he has any complaints," the mouth smiled grotesquely, "I am not hard to find."

Master Crouch bowed, then hauled Donna to her feet, where she swayed precariously. "You are most gracious, my Lord." He bowed.

"Yes," the Dark Lord agreed simply. "Severus," he called, addressing the figure stood a little way off, "you will assign them with proper quarters – their current rooms appear not to suffice." He raised an eyebrow. "An abandoned classroom is hardly fitting for a hero of war, don't you agree?"

Snape bowed. "As you wish, my Lord. I shall have Amycus and Alecto move in together to save space."

The Dark Lord smiled. "Your foresight amuses me, my servant. Yes, I believe that shall be fitting. Bartemus – your assistant shall also find her rightful place under my rule." His cruel smile widened. "Tell Argus Filch," he purred, "that he has the company that I promised him."

Master Crouch smirked back and Donna felt her heart drop. "Gladly, my Lord."


	7. Realisations

**7. Realisations. **

"Put her in here," Snape commanded, pointing into the Headmaster's bedroom. The Doctor moved past him with a sneer and deposited Donna roughly on the undisturbed bed, ignoring her groan of pain. "Now, come with me. I have something of yours that apparently I must return to you without delay."

"Something of mine?" The Doctor demanded, following closely on Snape's heels as the taller man walked smoothly back into the main office. "I _knew_ I couldn't trust you! What is it?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Obviously I need to do a better job next time. Bartemus may be insane, but he is not as stupid as to ask someone who," he added pointedly, "he doesn't trust, what it is that he has stolen!"

"What are you talking about?"

Snape looked like he was resisting the urge to bang his head against a wall. "Remember that little, _significant_ conversation we had regarding your secret identity? _Doctor_. The Cruciatus cannot have altered your cognitive processes enough for you to forget that – unless, as you stated shortly after arriving in our universe, you really are going senile."

"I'm not senile!"

Snape pushed an exasperated breath out through his large nose. "And _that_," he demanded, "is the information you decide to debate?"

"As you _just said_, Snape, we've had the Doctor discussion before."

There was a brief silence. "That is true," he muttered, as though he didn't want to admit it, before swirling around and gesturing to the Pensieve that still lay upon the desk. "Take out the memories belonging to the Doctor and put them in your head."

"What?"

"Put them in your head," Snape snarled, clearly in no mood to explain properly, "or I shall put them in for you – and I assure you, it will not be pleasant. After you have finished, I shall turn your current memories into third party witness accounts."

"But-"

"Just," Snape snapped slowly, "_do it_."

oOO

"You let them do _what_?" the Doctor demanded, suddenly vaulting out of his chair and pacing around the office in agitation.

"I did not _let_ them do anything, Doctor. I had no choice in the matter."

"You could have kept us here in secret – you could have done _anything_ else, but instead you decide to turn us into _Death Eaters_! Why is that? Do you get satisfaction from messing around in other people's minds? Perhaps you like the power, _Headmaster_? Did you want company – someone to _hold your hand_ while you bowed before your dear _Master's_ feet-"

"_Enough!"_ Snape shouted. "I need no-one's help! I was only trying to _help_ you-"

"_By turning me into a Death Eater? I just knelt there and __**let**__ them torture her!"_

"You had no _choice_! I have told you many times! Is obstinacy an inherent trait in Time Lords?" Snape demanded, irritated beyond all possible measure. "How did you expect me to help return you to your universe _as well as _everything _else_ I have to do without anyone finding out? It was much simpler-"

"You put us in danger – you put _her_ in danger! Did you even _check _to see that she was alright before you cast her aside like that?"

"Of course I did!" Snape snapped, suddenly on his feet and mere inches from the Doctor's face. "I cannot say the same for what _you_ did, however."

"You'd messed with my mind!" the Doctor defended, but all blood had disappeared from his face. "I didn't know who I was-"

Snape sneered. "You seem to think me a cruel, heartless monster, but even _I_ would have the decency to check my 'assistant's' health-"

"And of course that makes you so much _better_," the Doctor snapped dangerously. "You would care for her instrumental value, nothing more – but that's not me! I care for her – she's my _friend_ and I will _not let you hurt her like that again!_"

"If you want my help," Snape said, "you have no choice. In any case…you are branded – unless of course you have forgotten that too," he added snidely. "Your _dear friend_ is just as stranded in this situation as you are, Doctor, and there is nothing you can do about it."

The Doctor's nose flared as he struggled to regain control of himself. "I want to see her."

Snape stepped back, all cold barriers thrown up once more. "Of course," he drawled, his voice cold. "I am surprised that, given your outrage, you did not ask sooner."

The Doctor simply glared at Snape, doing nothing in this moment to hide his utter hatred of the man before him.

"You know where she is, I believe."

The Doctor whirled away from Snape and stalked into the bedroom, trying to quell the frantic rhythm of his two hearts as he saw the immobile shape on the immaculate bed. Creeping closer, trying not to wake Donna, he gazed at her, abruptly reminded of the many reasons why he had many times considered travelling alone.

But, he knew, selfish impulse had always won out. He had gotten lonely, just as he had all those other times. He'd found someone, taken them with him, and then ruined their life. Again. All for loneliness.

The Doctor snorted. He was a nine hundred year old Time Lord – he should have known better.

He frowned as Donna groaned, her foot twitching seemingly of its own accord. There were a lot of things that he should have known better – never trust a spy, for one.

"Who's there?" A weak voice called out as Donna shakily raised herself up into a half sitting position.

The Doctor swallowed, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind as he sat beside his friend. "It's me, Donna."

"Master Crouch? But – but – I'm sorry, sir…I shouldn't stutter – not like that, but…why – no, never mind, it…" Donna swallowed, her eyes shining brightly. "Doesn't matter." She grimaced. "I'm just a silly Muggle, right, sir?"

"Why am I here?"

Donna seemed to stop breathing.

"Why do I care? Why do I call you 'Donna'?" He was well aware of what his alter-ego had done and how he had treated the woman before him, and it made him feel sick with himself. Except it wasn't him, was it?

"I – I shouldn't have asked…"

"No," the Doctor replied, staring at her in surprise, "you shouldn't have, but you did." He resisted the urge to break into a wide smile, despite the circumstances. "I suppose some things never change."

"Does this mean that…" Donna swallowed and re-started her sentence, as she seemed to do frequently in this persona. "I mean – you're safe, Master Crouch?"

"The Dark Lord accepted me, yes. Hopefully, this means we'll be safe."

"…W – sir?"

"Yes, _we_," the Doctor emphasised firmly. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"You should not speak to her like that," Snape admonished from the doorway. "She might gather the mistaken impression that you care for her, Bartemus."

The Doctor was on his feet and in front of Snape in a second. "I _do_ care for her, and I want you to change her back – right now."

"Unfortunately that is not possible."

There was an ominous calm before the storm.

"…_WHAT?_"

Snape did not seem willing to expand on his response any further than a simple smirk.

"It's not possible," the Doctor suddenly demanded, "or you don't want to make it possible? Well? Answer me! Which is it?"

"Miss Noble," Snape replied with aggravating slowness, "was much more talented at playing her part obediently tonight than she appears to have ever been. It would be safer for both of you-"

"She's terrified! She can barely talk – she can't get through a single sentence without having to start again because she's so _scared_ of who she's talking to!"

"Precisely."

"What?"

"Perhaps we should move this – ah – _discussion_ into another room."

"No. Change her back, Headmaster – _now_, or I'll leave this castle, and you, high and dry to face the wrath of Voldemort!"

Snape flinched, his left arm flexing slightly even as Donna gasped. "You must not speak the Dark Lord's name, Bartemus."

The Doctor resisted the urge to grind his teeth together. "I thought Professor Dumbledore told you to change us back after the meeting?"

"You, however, questioned why I listen to a simple portrait. What is to stop me from keeping her in a more appropriate role?"

"Oh come on! You – this is _ridiculous_!" the Doctor shouted, running his hands through his hair. "If anything," he muttered, "JK Rowling probably _under-_exaggerated you…Look," he added more loudly, "she doesn't have to go back, does she? She's the 'Muggle assistant' – how often do Muggles attend raids and meetings?"

"Rarely," Snape admitted.

"Right, good, because I think they'd hate it – which leads to my next point. If she's a 'muggle', she won't be at the meetings. If she won't be at the meetings, she won't need her persona to be so deeply ingrained in her mind, and she can easily be taught Occlumency just in case she _does _end up back there."

Snape's face had become marble. "I see that you enjoy your _dazzling_ displays in logic, Doctor."

"Since you didn't think of it," the Doctor snapped right back, "I think my triumph is justified, don't you? Now _change her back, _or we both leave right now and you lose your position as spy!"

Snape made no move.

"I would be a traitor," the Doctor continued, taking advantage of Snape's silence to really enforce the point and underline it in bold, despite its obvious existence, "and _you_, the one who re-introduced me into the fold, would be questioned as to my sudden _disappearance_ – I don't think even you could last long under the extensive questioning which Voldemort would put you under after making him look like such an idiot _and_," he continued triumphantly, "tricking him with such an obviously fictional muggle technology ploy."

"I shall teach her Occlumency in formal lessons," Snape sneered, "and you will reinforce the lessons with her _whenever_ you have the opportunity. I do not care how much her head will ache, nor how she does not want to practice – she _will_ become proficient, and if I feel that the case is otherwise, she is returning to this state."

"Right, fine, yes."

Jars of misty looking gas came floating into the room and Snape stalked over to the bed to begin the long process of replacing Donna's memories. The Doctor glared at the man's back, wondering when the spy had become so illogical and hard-headed and…_difficult_. Anyone, he thought, could see the point in changing Donna's memories back to normal, yet Snape seemed reluctant to take even one small risk.

_Perhaps_, a voice niggled in the back of his mind, _that was what you were doing when you considered travelling alone_.


	8. Hysteria at Hogwarts

**8. Hysteria at Hogwarts.**

"Now, if you are _quite_ finished with your reunion," Snape said tiredly after restoring Donna to her normal state, "I will show you to your permanent quarters."

"But we can just stay in that room we were in before, can't we?" Donna asked.

"Were you or were you not at the meeting last night?" Snape demanded.

"She was busy," the Doctor responded, angrily, "recovering from a Cruciatus attack – I think she can be forgiven if she forgets one little detail!"

Snape's lip curled, indicating that he didn't put much weight on the Doctor's argument. "The Dark Lord ordered that, in the event of your arrival, the Doctor shall become the Dark Arts professor-"

"Wait a minute, don't you mean _Defence_ against the Dark Arts?"

The look that Snape gave Donna was thoroughly condescending. "With a Death Eater in charge?" he demanded pointedly.

Donna opened her mouth, apparently about to argue, before she snapped it shut again and appeared to re-think her reply. "I haven't read the books in ages – some of the stuff I remember isn't exactly _detailed_."

"The Doctor," Snape continued as though he had never been interrupted, "shall become the Dark Arts professor with Amycus Carrow as assistant and you, as I am sure you are already aware, as Filch's assistant."

"I'll say it again – _wonderful_."

"Will she be safe from Filch?" the Doctor demanded. "Voldemort-"

Snape glared at him.

"-the _Dark Lord_, then, mentioned something about having finally found some company for Filch-"

"Oh my God!" Donna gasped. "I'm – I'm his – I don't even want to think it, it's _horrible-_"

"Miss Noble shall have to defend herself against Filch's advances as well as she is able."

"Oh _God_," Donna muttered, seriously looking as though she was about to hyperventilate. "But I _can't_! He's hairy, and old, and…_in love with his cat_ – wait a minute?" she glanced between them as though she had just discovered the meaning of life. "He's in love with his cat! Does this mean I'm safe? I mean, I'm not a cat, am I?"

"I can definitely say you're not a cat, Donna," the Doctor said finally, "but I still think you need to be careful. Isn't there any way to stop this?" he continued, turning to stare at Snape. "Can't we bribe him, knock him out every evening – can we do _anything_?"

"When the Dark Lord commands something," Snape pointed out ruefully, "it is nearly always fulfilled."

"Nearly always?" Donna repeated, grasping onto that phrase and not letting it go. "But that means there's some hope, doesn't it? _Please_ tell me there's hope!"

Snape stared at her as though she had grown a second head. "Many others have made worse sacrifices for the war effort," he said finally, as though Donna's protests were unreasonable. "It is, however, always possible that Filch, having been without partner for some time, will be rather…unfulfilling or reluctant."

"You never know," the Doctor chirped in a see-through attempt to make her feel better, "he could be gay."

Donna stared at him. "I did _not_ just hear you say that."

Snape audibly cleared his throat. "Your living arrangements? It is three o'clock in the morning and I have a rather full schedule that I must return to."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "right, sorry." He peered closer at Snape, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and slumped posture. "How long have you been up?"

Snape grimaced and opened his mouth, but Dumbledore beat him to the punch. "Entirely too long, I should say. I did warn you not to over-use that Time Turner, Severus."

"It is not over use," Snape snapped, "because I _need_ to keep up with everything-"

"But you do not need to kill yourself doing so, my boy."

"I am not some irresponsible child!"

Donna sucked in a breath. "I remember now!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "The memory has been swimming round my head – Occlumency and changed memories are really confusing," she explained, "but Occlumency drains energy levels – I remember, just after I turned into _her_, I had to give you a potion-"

"Who?" the Doctor asked. "Me?"

"_No_, you weren't here, Space Boy – it was him – he almost fainted on the floor."

As if in slow motion they both turned to stare at the irate man on the other side of the desk, noting with a mixture of amusement and exasperation that his lips were pressed into a line so thin that they were in danger of becoming invisible.

"Headmaster?"

"I was not about to _faint_, Doctor," Snape finally snarled.

"How long does that potion last, Headmaster?"

"Long enough," Snape replied evasively. "Now, if you would kindly allow me to speak without any more of your inane interruptions?"

"Sorry," Donna muttered sheepishly on behalf of both of them.

"Thank you," Snape drawled sarcastically. "As Professor of the Dark Arts, the Doctor will be required to reside in the appropriate quarters which essentially means that Amycus and Alecto Carrow shall have to share the Muggle Studies quarters."

"And they aren't going to be happy about that," the Doctor observed.

"While they appear to be very protective of one another," Snape agreed, "I do not believe that they genuinely get along."

"It's more of a territorial thing," Donna added.

Snape nodded. "Their behaviour should be interesting to watch," he stated, a slow grin curving his lips as he contemplated the possibilities. The entire expression simply looked alien on him and it was gone in a second, as though the man had realised what he was doing and wiped away all traces of humanity.

"So where do I stay?" Donna asked before holding up a finger emphatically. "If it's _Filch-_"

"That would be inappropriate," Snape interrupted, "for the simple reason that, as the Doctor's assistant, you are helpful to him in many other ways – for all intents and purposes."

Donna's mouth dropped open. "We are _not_ a couple!"

Snape actually sighed at her and the Doctor broke in. "Actually, I think he means that, as Barty, I…well, I suppose I ask you to do more than simply fix the machinery." If the situation wasn't so serious, Donna might have laughed at the look of intense embarrassment on his face.

"So I'm meant to be…" she grimaced, her disgust at the situation evident, "_assistant_ to _two_ men at once?"

"Do you feel incapable of multi-tasking?" Snape asked in what, she would have said unless she knew better, was an almost impish tone.

Donna glared at him. "_Look_, Plant Boy-"

"Alright, that's enough!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Doctor! Didn't you _hear_ what he said?"

"Yes, and it was out of line, but we have to finish this conversation sometime before dawn, and I don't think any of us want to get any closer to it. You only have to pretend to be with me, Donna, and…try to escape Filch, if you can."

"And," Snape added, "should anyone raise the question of your first night here, you were allocated an abandoned classroom in the dungeons – do not reveal the location of the Room of Requirement unless circumstances mean that you must. Now," he summoned two brightly coloured vials from the bedroom, "you must administer these potions should Miss Noble or yourself show any further effects of the Cruciatus."

The Doctor took the vials from Snape and pocketed them with a nod. "Thank you."

Snape smirked. "I can hardly have the two of you twitching at random intervals. Are there any further questions?"

"When can I learn magic?" Donna asked.

She found herself facing a black glare. "We have already discussed this."

She shrugged and sighed. "Worth a try."

"Anything else?" Snape asked drily.

"Not at the moment – unless you've miraculously managed to find whoever brought us here?" the Doctor asked.

Snape shook his head. "I have no more information than you do, Doctor, on that matter. If you will follow me," he said, standing up and walking at a sedate pace to the door, "I will show you to your rooms."

"Do we have to share a bed?" Donna asked in sudden horror.

Snape gave her a thoroughly nasty smile. "Question time," he declared, "officially ended thirty seconds ago."

The Doctor and Donna exchanged glances and swallowed in trepidation.

"I can probably magic something up," the Doctor declared unconvincingly. "Hopefully separate beds – it should be possible."

Snape smirked at them both, apparently enjoying himself immensely as he led them through the labyrinth of corridors and into their new living quarters, which had been vacated several hours earlier by a very reluctant Amycus Carrow.

oOo

"Your job," Filch droned the next morning as Donna reported to his office in shabby, working clothes (courtesy of Snape, who refused to say anything other on the suspicious matter than 'they have been donated'), "is to follow my every order."

Donna swallowed, only having to ham up her act a minute amount by this point in order to sound like her persona. She definitely wished she hadn't heard about her supposed 'duties' as assistant the night before. Now…every glance he gave her made her feel as though she had suddenly been dunked in ice. Or maybe that was partly due to the frequent passing of ghosts. She wasn't entirely sure, but she _did _know that she hated it already.

And God knew how long she had to stay in this place. To think, she had thought it would be glamorous; days filled with her learning alongside students how to lift a quill – maybe she could even have met Harry Potter, although she really would have preferred to meet someone her own age like Lockhart, if only he wasn't such an idiotic creep. Maybe someone more like an older Krum, but without the nose, hair or accent…but _definitely_ not someone like _Filch_.

She half felt like running screaming after the Fates, who seemed to be having a rather giant laugh at her expense. When, exactly, was she going to meet a guy who wasn't in love with a giant spider, a cat loving creep, or just _weird_? She'd lost count of the number of failed romances that she'd had over the years, and she was fed up with it all. Maybe she should become a nun, just to spite them all.

Yeah…except she wasn't religious. And, as her mum would say, it wasn't her at all. She was more suited to being a temp – or so her mother thought, since Donna could never ever do anything right.

Filch banged his mop on the floor, taking an uninvited step into her personal space. His unwashed body was almost pressed against hers, reeking of every scent imaginable – was that _cat_? – and she forced herself to breathe through her mouth. She thought she'd probably faint if she used her nose at this point.

"Are you paying attention to me, girl?" he demanded.

"D-" she had to force herself to stutter, "D-Donna."

Filch leered at her and she mentally threw up all over his shoes, just to see the expression on his face. "D-D-Donna," he repeated mockingly. "Lovely name you have there. Now, D-D-Donna, did you hear a single thing I said?"

"That I'm – well, I'm meant to do what – whatever you say, sir."

His eyebrows flew to his hairline. Which, she noted with disgust, was such a matted mess that it seemed to be permanently attached to his scalp. "_Sir _– I like that. Not enough people call me that these days. It's a lack of respect, it is," he continued, looking as though he was happily warming to his rant. "The students these days don't know a good old fashioned hard day's work, do they? I wish they'd bring back the old punishments. You'd be surprised how many people keep in line when they can hear their classmate screaming for help from the dungeons."

Donna swallowed again, sincerely hoping that this wasn't a very fond wish that he had.

"But," he sighed, sounding slightly deflated, "that sort of thing is very illegal now. Stupid really – _but_ the Dark Lord has agreed to let me use a whip." He gestured his belt, into which was tucked a menacing looking whip. "It might not be manacles and chains, but it's won me over," he chuckled.

Donna spoke without thinking. "He won you over because of a _whip_?"

Filch's face immediately darkened and she hurriedly backtracked.

"I – er, sorry sir, it's just – I didn't know he was so gracious…I wasn't offered anything at all, you see – it just sort of happened…"

"Perhaps if you play your part well enough," Filch all but purred, "you'll be rewarded well."

Donna had to fight _very _hard not to cringe. "So…what…" she cleared her throat, wondering why she had to sound so embarrassingly squeaky at this moment in time, "what exactly is our cleaning routine?"

"It varies day to day," Filch enthused, gesturing with his mop, "but the real thrill is coming along a trail of footprints – that means there's a misbehaving student somewhere. Mud is strictly forbidden."

"I – right," she muttered. "Makes sense."

"When that happens, I send Mrs Norris out to catch the reprobates," he grinned maliciously, "to do with as I please, provided I get there first."

Donna did _not_ like the way that he fingered his whip when he said that, and she was pretty sure that her dry throat was an indication of life threatening dehydration. "What are we doing today, sir?"

"Today," Filch announced, "we start with the toilets – the male ones. I noticed an overflowing toilet earlier when I was on my rounds – something quite large must have been needed to cause that. Must be a dead rat or something. They never learn." He picked up his mop and plunger and began to make his wheezing way along the corridor, beckoning for her to follow.

She waited until he was relatively out of hearing distance before she added, lowly to herself, "I'm going to _kill_ Snape."

Filch was right, as it happened, and it took much effort to eventually get the toilets to stop overflowing and the room back up to what was apparently par for facilities that were at least three decades old, at the last refurbishment. She hated to think what state the castle was in before it was fitted with such muggle technology – if blockages such as this could occur now, then she truly pitied whoever had lived here in the centuries before.

After much scrubbing and facing much more than she ever really wanted to face on her first day, she was finally invited back to Filch's office for her lunch break. Trying to ignore the fact that her heart was now beating away in her throat, trying to escape from her body, she forced herself to talk to him in an attempt to distract his mind from whatever thoughts a dinner together might lead to. She only hoped that he wasn't the type of man that was desperate enough to not wait until night at the least – and she really, _really_ hoped that he wouldn't make the attempt at all.

But, she resolved, catching a leering look out the corner of her eye, that hope didn't seem to be a particularly valid one at this moment in time.

"Sir?" she ventured, hoping she was heard over the sound of his wheezing. When he nodded, she continued. "Don't we eat in the Great Hall – that is, if the professors let us?"

Filch let out a wheezing chuckle, sounding on the verge of an asthma attack. "Most of them are avoiding the Hall at the moment," he explained. "Seem to be a bit annoyed at Severus' new promotion."

"Are we normally allowed?"

"I tend to avoid the room – too many people," he continued with a small shudder, "and I like to keep an eye on Mrs Norris. She'd get too excited in that room with all those misbehaving students. I hope that you will follow my example but," he admitted apparently reluctantly, "I recognise that Professor Crouch has ultimate control of your activities."

Donna breathed a mental sigh of relief, thinking that at least there was some small measure of relief from what seemed to be rapidly turning into a magical hell.

Too soon, however, they reached Filch's office and she was just resigning herself to her fate when he walked past the door and opened another one, allowing it to swing open to reveal the very thing that she feared most.

His private quarters.

She backed away immediately, not caring what he thought by now as she tried to babble herself out of the situation. "I'm sorry, sir – I just, I don't – isn't this a bit soon to be having – I mean, it's still _daytime_ and I don't…we don't _know_ each other…"

Filch, surprisingly, yanked her into the room and slammed the door shut, locking it with an ancient looking key and stashing it down his trousers, effectively stopping her for going after it. Not even the prospect of escape, she concluded, would make her venture _there_.

Filch seemed to realise this, because he began to walk further into the room, an intense look in his eye that could only mean trouble. Fortunately, his cat was presently nowhere in sight, although Donna wasn't quite sure why this was a relief. Maybe if she could use a discussion of Mrs Norris as a distraction…

"No, wait! Sir? Sir – please, I-" she grabbed up the nearest pointy object that she could reach. Unfortunately, it was a quill. And not even a sharp one. "I have a weapon," she concluded lamely.

Filch stopped, still watching her through his beady eyes, and she realised that she had already blown their cover.

That is, she thought she had until Filch spoke. "If you don't tell the Dark Lord about this, I won't tell him or Professor Crouch about _that_," he said, indicating the quill.

Donna didn't let go of it, but instead tightened her hold. It began to bend ominously, but she ignored it. "This – this what?"

"I can't let you fulfil your new orders."

Donna blinked. This was unexpected. What next – was he going to tell her he was secretly a Muggle spy or something? "I – why not?"

"I don't want you to fall out of favour with the Dark Lord or Professor Crouch," Filch said, although his tone made it clear he was afraid more for his own safety should whatever he was about to reveal should become widely known, "but I can't do it."

"You…" Donna's mind was reeling, and she lowered the quill slightly. "You _can't_?"

Filch coloured. "I _can_, you stupid woman – I meant I _won't_, not with you."

Well, that was a relief. If a bit insultingly phrased, especially coming from him. "Why not?" She tried not to make herself sound too relieved, though, knowing it wasn't in her 'character' to enjoy disobeying orders.

"I don't find you attractive."

Donna's mouth officially forgot how to close. "_You _don't find me _attractive_?"

"No," Filch said bluntly, coming further into the room and lowering himself wistfully onto a rickety chair. "My thoughts belong to another."

"I…ok…"

He now looked completely lost in thought, blinking blearily into the distance. "I have long wished for a photo of the two of us," he explained, as he stared at a row of photos of Mrs Norris, "but it's not possible, given who I want."

Donna winced, beginning to feel supremely sorry for whoever Filch _wanted_. Obviously, though, it wasn't Mrs Norris – there were more than enough photos of _her_.

"So…just to check," she broke in hesitantly, "I'm saf – urm, you don't want me?"

Filch shook his head, still not really all there, although for him the description of 'all there' seemed to be relative. "I've only ever got really close to him once," he sighed.

Donna's mind almost stalled. "_Him_?" So the Doctor was right.

"I bandaged his leg once," Filch muttered. "It was disgusting – blood dripping all over the staffroom carpet, but he kindly cleared that up for me in exchange for me sorting out his leg – bitten by a three headed dog, he was." He grimaced. "Looked like it hurt a lot, but Se – he barely batted an eyelid."

Donna coughed, trying to discretely bring him back to the present, not really because she valued the man's privacy, but because she _really_ didn't want to know who this mysterious man was. "If you don't mind, sir," she whispered, trying very hard not to laugh at his sudden jump back into the present world, which almost sent him sprawling out of his chair, "I – I just need to go and check in with Master Crouch. It's my first full day – I'm sure he'd want to know what happened."

Filch nodded. "He's a sensible man, Professor Crouch is. You can let him know you're a reasonably competent worker."

At any other time, she would have bristled at that, but she was too busy trying to hold in her laughter to really notice the insult as she nodded, ran out of the room, and began to run through the castle, leaving Filch to his happy musings. It was only when she hurtled round the corner, into a soft object, that she realised that she had no idea where she had ended up in the castle.

Stumbling into the wall and only staying on her feet through sheer force of will, she looked up to see the Doctor lying sprawled on the floor on his back, looking dazed.

"Do-"

"Noble," the Doctor pointedly interrupted. "A word in the empty classroom, if you please. I wish to discuss your performance on your first day." He jerked his head at a nearby door, wand out ready to ward the room against eavesdroppers.

She could barely contain herself, practically hopping up and down before he was finally finished swishing his wand around and turned to her, looking very serious.

"Donna, I told you earlier, we have to pretend to be-"

"Yes, yes, I know all that – but I just found out something very important!"

Her expression finally seemed to register in his mind and he nodded at her expectantly. "Which is…what?"

"Filch is in love!" she blurted, grinning like an idiot.

The Doctor's mouth abruptly performed a perfect goldfish impression. "I'm…well, I'm guessing from your ecstatic response that it isn't with you?"

"Oh no!"

"So who is it?" the Doctor asked, beginning to catch her enthusiasm. "Wait – don't tell me, I don't think I want to know who it is…"

"I don't know who it is."

"Then how do you-"

"He started to ramble while I was there…something about a man he couldn't have a photograph with and three headed dogs."

"_Three headed dogs_?" The Doctor repeated, baffled.

"He said the person he '_wanted_' got attacked by one-"

The Doctor looked as though he'd been hit by lightning. "Was it called Fluffy?"

Donna drew her explanation to a stop, startled. "Fluffy?" she repeated blankly. "What sort of three headed dog is called _Fluffy_?"

"The sort of three headed dog that's Hagrid's pet."

"Filch's love interest got bitten by a dog called _Fluffy_?" Donna crowed.

The Doctor nodded dumbly before suddenly breaking down into a fit of absolutely unstoppable laughter. "Oh this is _brilliant_!"

"What?" Donna asked, feeling as though she'd missed something important. "Doctor? What is it? You can't just laugh like that and not tell me what it is!"

"It's-" the Doctor gasped, now leaning on a desk and gasping for breath, "I know who it is, and I don't think he's going to be very happy about it." He drew a shuddering breath and looked up at her, his eyes very close to watering with mirth. "I really think you should have read the books recently," he choked out.

"Why?" Donna demanded. "Doctor – come on, tell me!"

"It's – I really can't believe this."

She was getting really annoyed by now. "_Believe. What?_"

"Filch's love interest," the Doctor gasped at last, "is _Headmaster Snape_."

Donna's mouth dropped open and she sputtered for several full minutes before she, like the Doctor, lost herself to a fit of hysterics.


	9. Robbery

**9. Robbery.**

"_Close_ your mind, Miss Noble, not open it!"

"It's _difficult_!" Donna spat back, much to the Doctor's amusement.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. "It pains me to admit that perhaps Mister Potter was not the epitome of useless at this skill. It seems that we have a new winner."

"I'm _trying_!" Donna said loudly, face becoming steadily redder and her hair appearing frizzier with the effort of attempting Occlumency. "It'd be much easier if you gave some instruction instead of shouting the same thing at me over and over again – you're like a broken record!"

"Even Potter did not need this much practice before he at least managed to block me once!"

"And maybe I'd do better if you weren't constantly yelling, Plant Boy!"

"Clearly your memory needs modifying, Miss Noble, if you still believe that it's acceptable to call me that!"

"And until you show me some _respect_," Donna responded fiercely, "that isn't happening!"

"I could remove you from the premises."

"Except you won't, will you, because you promised to send us home."

Snape smirked.

"Maybe," the Doctor intoned, "we should have made him agree to an Unbreakable Vow."

"Severus already possesses an unmatchable familiarity with the concept," Dumbledore's portrait chimed in. "I believe that he rather detests the process by now."

"Yes, _thank you_," Snape drawled, glaring at the portrait.

"You are more than welcome, my boy."

Snape's expression suggested that, were he alive, Dumbledore would be in danger of being killed all over again. Lacking that option, he instead turned to Donna and glared at her.

"_Legilimens_!"

The Doctor watched, hope beginning to drain away as Donna once more failed to protect her mind. They had been practicing for two months, now, and there had been barely any improvement. At first, the sessions had been nightly – at Snape's insistence. But the return of the students in September and the worse than usual misbehaving had led to the appointment becoming twice weekly instead. The Doctor had been charged with practicing with Donna on the remaining nights, but the learning process was an excruciatingly slow one.

It was also something that Snape would not let them forget in a hurry.

"At least try to _block_ your mind," Snape declared, ending the spell, "since it is evidently not clear enough in its natural state."

"At least give me a _chance_!"

"You have had two months of nothing but chances. If you do not improve, I shall be forced to consult plan B." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a better motivator?"

Donna shuddered involuntarily. "I don't want to go back to that _but_," she added, her voice becoming hard once more, "I don't see how you expect me to do this when I've had no practice with magic!"

"This is strength of will," Snape countered. "If anything, I had hoped to channel your natural obstinacy into a more constructive outlet."

"I am _not obstinate_!"

Snape's smirk said it all.

"Alright, Plant Boy, _attack_ my mind again and see if I don't throw you out on your mental arse this time!"

Snape's lips actually twitched as he began to lift his wand once more.

Suddenly, the light in the room turned blood red, halting Snape in his tracks as a recorded message in Snape's voice permeated the atmosphere.

"Potions storeroom," it informed curtly. "Potions storeroom-"

Snape lifted his wand and the voice stopped. The lights brightened once more.

Donna finished surveying the room, her expression one of surprise. "…Well that was all very sci-fi. Needs some work but it _might_ make a 1960s TV show."

"What's in the Potions storeroom that needs to be warded?" the Doctor asked immediately as Snape got to his feet.

Snape glared at him. "Potions. _Obviously_."

The Doctor blinked once before turning around and following Snape to the door. "You know that's not what I meant – what sort of potions need an alarm system?"

Snape didn't even look at the pair as he began to run down the spiral staircase. "You had better return to your quarters, Bartemus, and take your assistant with you. I have no time for your concerns about your salary."

Inwardly, the Doctor was irritated at the constant need for subterfuge, but he played along nevertheless. "Noble, back to your quarters. Now."

He could practically feel the glare he would get from her later, but her voice was appropriately submissive as she dutifully excused herself.

"I said _both_ of you," Snape barked, now in full sprint down the corridor.

"And let you have all the fun, Snape? Not likely – I'm coming along."

"I had no idea," Snape replied dryly. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"Don't you have a Floo, Snape?"

"Ginerva Weasley saw fit to curse it during the Welcoming Feast," Snape snapped. "Anyone who uses it turns into a moose – fortunately," he added, "I was not first to use it and was sufficiently warned."

"And Alecto's antlers still won't come off?"

"If you knew about it," the spy barked as students leapt out of their path, "as does the entire school, why do you insist on discussing it?"

The Doctor forced a smirk onto his face. "I hope to one day convince you to turn yourself into a moose."

Snape glanced at him sharply, warning him that he was straying too far into familiarity.

"Of course," the Doctor added, "a moose can't be Headmaster."

After what seemed like an endless maze of corridors, staircases and confused students, they both came to a panting halt in front of the Potions storeroom.

The door was swinging wide open, but there was not a soul in sight. Snape swept the area, his spells not revealing anyone in the corridor, hidden or otherwise, apart from himself and the Doctor. Another quick spell revealed an animal life form nearby, heading towards the main entrance and Filch's office.

"Mrs Norris," Snape snarled, "is never where she needs to be."

The Doctor glanced at him, a question forming on his lips, but noticed a gathering crowd of students out the corner of his eye.

"What are you all staring at?" he demanded, hating himself for their immediate expressions of terror. "Get out of here and back to your dormitories! I'm sure you all have plenty of homework to do before another week of classes – now _go_!"

They trickled away obediently, a few still looking openly curious, and the Doctor stepped into the storeroom to find Snape scowling as he surveyed his shelves.

"Well – what did they take?"

"Pepper-Up Potions," Snape said automatically, "Strengthening Solution and a Vitamin supplement as well as," he added suspiciously, "a potent solution to replenish a depleted magical core."

The Doctor frowned. "That's unusual. Shouldn't they be stealing poisons or something, not…_medicinal_ potions?"

"Organise a school-wide search, Bartemus. These wards are not easily undone – and the culprit must be made to realise," he hissed, "exactly what this transgression entails."

oOo

Three hours later, the school had been thoroughly searched with the help of every professor and ghost on the premises, but no stolen potions had been found. They had not been hidden in crevices, under beds, nor had they been transfigured – a dangerous process when dealing with magical substances – or shrunken in order to be hidden among belongings.

They had simply vanished and no student, with the exception of the unlucky few in the Hospital Wing, had shown any signs of ingesting them. They were at a dead end and finally, Snape did the only thing he felt able to do.

The Doctor had been infuriated with this decision, but had been unable to contradict him in the public spectacle that had been made of the search and eventual 'capture' of the culprit. Instead, he had returned to his shared quarters with Donna – an arrangement neither of them were ecstatic about, but was necessary due to lack of space – and proceeded to vent.

"He chose Ginny Weasley?" Donna repeated in confusion.

"He chose Ginny Weasley," the Doctor repeated.

"But – she couldn't have done it, could she?"

"No, she didn't do it. She actually had an alibi, but the Headmaster decided to make an example of her anyway, since she's a well known trouble maker."

"So who did do it?"

The Doctor sighed and sat down, running a hand through his hair. "Nobody knows, but young Ginerva Weasley is apparently going to have a very _long_ session of scrubbing floors alongside Mister Filch."

Donna made a face. "I know how she feels – unfortunately." She leaned in closer, watching the Doctor's face anxiously. "Weren't there any clues – were there any footprints?"

"Footprints?" the Doctor repeated in surprise. "This isn't a detective novel!"

"So maybe it didn't need to have footprints, then – were there any signs of something landing?"

"Of what?"

"A mini spaceship – a circle of scorch marks on the floor, bird droppings – _anything_?"

The Doctor stared at her. "…Nothing…_quite_ like that…no."

"Don't look at me like that!" Donna protested, though she seemed to be fighting a smile. "Something could have followed us through the hole in the vortex-"

"And broken into Headmaster Snape's stores for fun? I don't think so, Donna. Not even the Daleks are that mad."

"_Yeah_," Donna sighed, before smirking. "They wouldn't want to get beaten by an angry Snape on the loose, after all."

"I don't think he'd quite manage that, even if he is a wizard."

"You never know – he gets more ruthless when he's angry. And he's angry a _lot_."

They both shared a grin at the thought of an apoplectic Snape hunting down a hoard of retreating Daleks before the conversation turned back to the original topic.

"So I take it you're both still looking for who really did it?"

"Oh yes – I already have a lead, actually." He sniffed, waiting for the eventual question.

Which was quite fast in coming, apparently, as he had barely finished speaking before Donna leapt in once again. "A lead – but you said there were no clues!"

"I said there were no clues like the examples you gave me, not that there were no clues whatsoever."

"So what is it then?"

"Cats."

There was a brief pause. "_Cats_?"

"Yes, cats. Actually, one cat in particular. Mrs Norris-"

Donna shuddered. "I _hate _her. Wait a minute - she can't have done it!"

"-Snape said that Mrs Norris is never where she is meant to be – but I'm sure you've noticed, as have many of the students here, that Mrs Norris _always_ seems to turn up at the wrong moment-"

Donna poked the air as though pointing at a tangible fact. "That's _right_ – I remember now, because in the books they only escape because of their invisibility cloak, because Mrs Norris turns up a step ahead of Filch!"

"_Exactly_. And Snape's searching spell picked up an animal travelling _away_ from the storeroom _towards_ the main entrance and the staircase to Filch's office. Does that sound like Mrs Norris to you?"

Donna stared at him. "So what does this mean?"

"Do you remember book three, 'The Prisoner of Azkaban'?"

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Donna. Do you remember it or not?"

"Of course I do – Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban as a dog, Harry casts a Patronus – Professor Lupin turns out to be a werewolf-"

This might take a bit longer than he thought. "No, I mean, do you remember anything about the breaking into Hogwarts?"

"Breaking in?" The penny dropped. "They didn't know he was in Hogwarts until he slashed a painting – because he was an Animagus! That's it, isn't it? The culprit's an Animagus from outside the school?"

"I think so, yes, but for all we know Mrs Norris could have been legitimately pre-occupied. _But_," he muttered, "I'm willing to bet half my salary that that isn't the case."

"So what do we do now? Go after them, hunt them down?"

"Now," the Doctor said quietly, "we wait."

Donna huffed out a sigh. "Of course you _had_ to go and be _cliché _about it, didn't you?"


	10. A Decision

**10. A Decision.**

The Doctor surveyed the room, noting that despite his attempt to avoid 'punishing' the students as the other Death Eater 'Professors' did, they remained terrified of him. A few faces refreshingly stared at him with simple, unsurpassable hatred, but in his heart he wished for a normal chance to teach.

Unfortunately, he had managed to land in the middle of the climax of the Harry Potter series, and he could not be anything other than the terrifying Death Eater he looked like if he wished to avoid getting himself, Donna and Snape killed by Voldemort. It was exasperating and disheartening and, like Donna, he couldn't wait to get home.

He just wished the TARDIS took a different type of energy and that he had time to research different ways to fuel it. As it was, he was left with no option but to spend every waking moment alternating between protecting the students and protecting Donna. He would happily have given his own life force to re-power the TARDIS, as he had done in the past, but with Voldemort's protective wards now around it, that was impossible, and he had had no opportunity before Snape's ill-timed interrogation.

All in all, his temper was gradually worsening day by day, and the situation was not aided any by the attitude of the other professors. Convinced that the Doctor was a Death Eater, they treated him with either contempt or outright silent treatment, doing everything in their power to attempt to undermine his authority. There had been one incident when some old members of the DA had created a blizzard in the corridor outside of his quarters, forbidding him entry and trapping Donna inside, and every professor except the Carrows and Snape had pretended to be busy. They had been left to struggle with cancelling the spells, rescuing Donna, and trying to catch the culprits.

The Doctor had seen to it that they escaped without being found, persuading Snape that the students had shown ingenuity and that this ability should be cultivated – it could after all save them in a battle. Snape had reluctantly agreed, but did not seem pleased with the slight to his authority over the school. He seemed just as reluctant as the Doctor to 'punish' as the Carrows seemed so fond of doing and the Doctor noted with amusement that, whenever he caught a student, he sent them to Hagrid or Filch. Lenient measures indeed in these circumstances – not that the majority of the students even realised, of course.

The Doctor sighed, wondering how many students the both of them had to save before _someone_ got the idea.

"You, Longbottom," the Doctor sighed, finally, when no one answered his question. "What is the difference between an Inferi and a ghost?"

Neville Longbottom simply stared at him with a mixture of fear and hatred.

"I do not have all day, Longbottom," the Doctor forced himself to bark.

Carrow stepped forwards eagerly. "Detention-"

"_I_ am the Professor in this room, if you do not mind," the Doctor snarled, heart beating furiously. "Longbottom, I will not ask you again. What is the difference?"

Glancing between the Doctor and Carrow, the boy finally answered. "One is a soul-"

"Which one?"

Neville actually rolled his eyes at him. "The ghost."

Carrow narrowed his eyes. "He's being insubordinate, Barty, we should-"

The Doctor mimicked Neville, rolling his eyes at his 'colleague'. "I make the rules in this classroom, thank you."

"You're turning soft."

The Doctor whipped his head around to glare at Carrow, who immediately looked as though he wished he had never spoken. "_Soft_?" he demanded in what he hoped was his most dangerous voice.

A shifting in the background told him that some students were considering running. Absently, the Doctor flicked his wand at the door, locking it. He would not let them run out of class – he would have no choice but to punish them, then. The shuffling grew, along with the oppressive atmosphere.

"Let me tell you one thing, Amycus – Bartemus Crouch Junior never has been and never _will_ be, a _soft_ person. I simply do not see the _point_," he emphasised, angrily, "in torturing students so much that they cannot attend class!"

"He was disrespecting you!"

"He _rolled his eyes_," the Doctor corrected. "It's disrespectful, yes, but not an outright act of rebellion and until it is," he added, talking over the interrupting man, "I shall not send him off to get whipped. There is some chance that we can salvage the boy, Amycus. Just think – his parents were two of the most powerful Aurors of all time-"

"And they were against us every step of the way!"

"_Precisely_. The boy could be trained – as could the rest of them, and torture over every little thing is only going to stop the process. Do you understand me?"

Carrow seemed to reflect on that for a moment, glancing at the students, most of whom still showed an acceptable amount of fear, and then nodded. "Fine," he snarled. "But I'll be the first to tell Snape if you let it get out of control."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Who interrupted what was, until now, a very controlled class?" he asked pointedly. Carrow swallowed.

The Doctor gave a very real smirk of triumph and then turned back to the students. "Now, where were we? Longbottom, your definition."

Neville stared at him, pale as a ghost, his hands shaking slightly where they held his quill on his desk. Catching the Doctor glancing at them, the boy moved them under the table with what could only be classed as defiance.

"You'll never make me into one of you."

In the pregnant pause that followed, you could have heard a pin drop. The Doctor almost sighed. He had been so _close_ to saving him from punishment, and now all his hard work was being undone.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, leaving the boy a chance to apologise and avoid the consequences.

Neville stood up, shaking with rage, his eyes fixed upon the Doctor in a very Gryffindor act of spontaneous courage. "I'm not going to let you turn me into one of you. I'd rather die, screaming, just like my parents did, than sell my soul like that."

The Doctor blinked. "_Die_ screaming?"

The boy's expression just became harder. "The Mediwizards arrived too late," he spat. "They were found dead, tortured by you _scum_. I never knew them, but I do know they'd kill themselves all over again if they saw me turn into the people who killed them!"

The Doctor sighed then, angry at himself for forgetting in the heat of the moment the difference between the book universe and this one. "Detention, Longbottom. I will not tolerate such behaviour in my class. You will report to Headmaster Snape. Now."

The class drew a collective breath, several murmurs of 'murderer' and 'traitor' rippling through the student body. In their eyes, this was the worst possible punishment. To face Dumbledore's murderer and simply accept whatever he dictated was humiliating for any who had been loyal to Dumbledore.

The Doctor smirked, knowing that Neville would simply end up cleaning toilets or rounding up ingredients in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. Neville glared, jutted his chin out, and stalked out of the room, leaving Amycus Carrow cackling behind him.

"Now," the Doctor continued, "who knows the answer?"

oOo

The Doctor walked slowly through the darkened corridors, attempting to keep his steps as silent as possible in order to prevent anyone hearing him coming. It was better to catch the troublemakers before they caused trouble and send them back to their dormitories with a serious lack of points and a warning than to catch them afterwards and be forced to do something worse. He often found, at this time of night, that a few of the more rebellious students were up and about – he tried to catch them earlier rather than later, to minimise their punishment.

Of course, sometimes the students were simply a law unto themselves and refused to back down easily. Sometimes, he really hated Gryffindor heroics. Perhaps, he mused, he should teach more of them to see the Slytherin approach as more beneficial during a war.

Then again, he interrupted himself in mid mental-plan, it wasn't as though many students would actually listen to him in the first place, was it? Most of them would probably just see his attempts to help them as an attempt to get them on his side.

He vowed that, for the rest of his lives, he would not let himself be dragged into such a messed up situation again. He refused to act and be on constant watch every single hour of every single day, the guilt of who was dying to help him get home pressing on his mind. His only consolation was that he was able to help Snape save lives during Death Eater raids.

Voldemort often teamed them together, convinced that they could be unbeatable, the successful spy and the ingenious inventor of an undetectable time machine. He also assumed that they could keep blundering idiots like the Carrows under control for long enough to actually get through a raid without one of them accidentally killing the rest of the Death Eaters instead of the Muggles. He did not realise, however, that Snape and the Doctor often used the incompetence of those placed on their team to their advantage, often devising a plan of attack of impeccable cunning, only to have it foiled by their own team members, whose limited intelligence often meant blunders.

This freed them from guilt in the eyes of Voldemort, as well as helping to save the lives of many Muggles and Muggle supporters. It was what the Doctor lived for – seeing his actions actually do some tangible good was the only escape that he had these days from the disaster that his life had become.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair in an expression of stress. He hated subterfuge. He hated life on the run. Most of all, though, he hated being almost helpless and behind the scenes. He wanted to go into battle with his TARDIS proudly flying above Voldemort's lair and blow it into the ground. He wanted to rid this world of the psychopath just as it had been in the books.

It was impossible. And he really, really didn't want Voldemort to survive because the Horcruxes weren't discovered before the body was attacked. He closed his eyes momentarily. He also really, really hoped that said Horcruxes were the same in this universe. It would make the process a whole lot easier to simply pick them off one by one –

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he saw a figure pacing up and down in front of him in the dark corridor, wand foolishly lit and footsteps painfully loud in the dead silence of the castle. His resolve snapped – no matter what he did, everyone continued to undo his actions. He might as well just join the students and protect them from the inside, if he could.

The Doctor resisted the urge to growl with frustration as he strode up to the silhouette, wand ready in case the student (or professor, he thought with dread) decided to kick up a fuss when they saw him.

Cancelling his Disillusionment charm, the Doctor stepped forwards and lit his wand.

The silhouette spun around and lifted its wand higher up, in a duelling stance, casting light upon the face. The Doctor blinked in slight surprise as he saw the grim face of Neville Longbottom staring back at him, right before a door suddenly appeared in the wall.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. So, Neville had decided to search out the Room of Requirement. "Explain yourself."

Neville lifted his chin defiantly, refusing to lower his wand or acknowledge the presence of the door. "I was hungry. I wanted something to eat."

The Doctor snorted. "And decided to conjure up some food in that room?" he demanded, amused by the excuse, despite himself. "Wouldn't it have been easier to just go to the kitchens?"

Neville stared at him. "I didn't want to," he insisted stubbornly. "And I needed more of a walk, some time to think."

"At an hour past curfew?"

Neville's wand twitched, as though he was contemplating trying to knock out the Doctor, but he seemed to decide against it. "I didn't realise the time."

The Doctor sighed, gesturing at the room. "In."

Neville actively stared at him, now. "What?"

"I said _in_, boy. Don't make me repeat myself. I'm not a very patient man at this time of night."

"I'm not going in."

"Oh? I thought you wanted some food?"

"Seeing you made me lose my appetite."

The Doctor snorted again, making Neville jump. "So Gryffindor _courage_ really does know no bounds," he sneered, in a passable imitation of Snape, before he lunged forwards.

Neville reacted instinctively, jumping to the side, before he was sent crashing through the door to the Room of Requirement by the Doctor's wordless spell. Glancing around the corridor, the Doctor noted with relief that there were no witnesses. Gathering his resolve, he stepped into the room, keeping his wand trained on the boy lying sprawled and dazed on the floor.

What he saw was without a doubt a combination of wizard and muggle training equipment. Old fashioned treadmills stood in the corner, unpowered by electricity, and punch bags in another. Dummies in the shape of human beings stood like grotesque puppets, watching the exchange with disinterest as the Doctor advanced on Neville, who was now glaring at him. Bookshelves occupied the walls, and a clear space of floor with mats covering it seemed devoted to duelling.

The Doctor gestured around him, openly curious. "This has nothing to do with food."

"The room must have conjured the wrong thing."

The Doctor flicked his wand at the door, placing spells that would ensure that no one could get in and that their conversation could not be overheard. "Neville, you know as well as I do that the room senses a need within the person and caters to it."

Neville stared at him, completely thrown off track. "Did you just – you have _no right_ to call me that!"

"You're right," the Doctor agreed amiably, finally able to drop his act, "but I did. What are you doing in here? Are you training yourself to fight – more than just you, perhaps? An army?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair in a moment of contemplation before throwing caution to the wind and throwing the stunned boy his wand and sitting on the floor. "There. I'm defenceless now, Neville, I can't do anything. Now, tell me what you're up to."

"No!"

The Doctor sighed again, unsurprised. He had hoped that a direct approach would work on the Gryffindor, since a Slytherin approach was getting nowhere. He had hoped that he could help this boy without anyone finding out, but clearly it was going to be harder than he thought.

"Neville, I can't do this anymore. I can't just _sit back_ and watch this school go down in flames – and I don't care what I'm _meant_ to do!" Ignoring the look of intense shock on the young man's face, he ploughed on, venting the frustration that had been mounting for the past few months. "Others might be able to act in the background, but I can't. I need you – or _at least you_ – to trust me. I can let you train here, I can help you get here without being detected, you don't even have to tell your friends, but I need you to _trust_ me first!"

"What are you talking about?" Neville demanded, staring at the Doctor like he had lost his mind.

"Bloody hell," the Doctor muttered, "it's much harder to live in the books than it is to read them."

"I…_what_?"

"It's a long story, Neville, and honestly, I don't think you'd believe me, but do you trust me?"

"No! Why would I? You sent me off to Snape just this morning-"

"Alright, yes, fair point, but not true. I was trying to protect you from Carrow. Don't you see? If I'd left you to him, you'd be almost flayed alive right now."

"But Snape-"

"Has a reputation for being mean, bad tempered, temperamental and Dumbledore's killer. That's punishment enough, on the face of it, isn't it? I sent you to him to appease Carrow, not to punish you, and I can help you – but you can't let him or anyone else find out."

Neville scoffed, but his expression was wavering. "Next you'll be telling me you're not Crouch! Do you really think I believe a single word of this?" He stood up, twirling both wands in his hands. "You know I could kill you right now, save everyone else from your useless classes, your detentions." His mouth set into a grim line. "I could stop you killing over and over."

"And I agree," the Doctor nodded. This wasn't the boy he had read about, exploding cauldrons and hiding behind his classmates in front of Snape. No – this was a soldier in the making. And no child – yes, he thought, taking in the boy's gangly and youthful appearance, still a child – should have to endure all of this alone. "But," he added, "I could help you instead, if you just keep me alive."

Neville stared at him for what seemed to be an eternity before he sank back to the floor, wands trained on the Doctor. "How?"

"Firstly, I'm the Professor for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. I can teach you new spells and techniques. I can let you get into this room by giving you signals – telling you when no one is in sight. And I can do all of this without telling the Headmaster or any other teacher."

"And what do you want in return?"

Ah, he was getting somewhere, he thought, grinning. "I want only your promise that you will keep this conversation to yourself and pretend that you are receiving no help whatsoever. Most of all, I need you to act normal, like none of this ever happened, and don't try to confront the Headmaster, no matter what he does."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get into more trouble and then," he replied grimly, "the punishment won't just be picking ingredients with Hagrid."

Neville assessed him for a long moment, grip on the two wands firm and unwavering, before he surprised the Doctor by returning his wand.

The Doctor grinned and jumped to his feet, ignoring Neville's slight flinch. "Brilliant! Now, let's get started. We need a way for you to communicate with whoever has agreed to train in here-"

"Actually, no one's agreed, not yet," Neville admitted. "I just wanted to check that the Room of Requirement hadn't been blocked or something, just in case we needed it."

"Who would you ask?"

"Whoever wanted to help," came the vague reply.

"Right. Good. Do you still have that DA coin?"

"How do you know about that?" Neville asked as he fished around in his robe pockets and handed it over.

"Well, bit hard to explain and you're not likely to believe me, but the simple explanation is that I like my books." The Doctor replicated the coin and handed both to Neville. "When you know how many are going to join your illegal army," he said with a grin, "tap this replicated coin while saying the number of new ones you need. It'll provide them for you. But do it somewhere secret – I don't want to see a sudden mountain of gold appear during lunchtime."

Neville laughed, but he was inspecting the coin suspiciously.

"I haven't cursed it. If I had, you'd know it. Look, I'll demonstrate-" he reached out to grab the coin again, but Neville held onto it. "-or…not. Ok, you replicate another coin, for me to use this time, so that I can let you know when the coast is clear for you to sneak in here."

Neville tapped the coin. "One."

Another coin appeared. "See? No jinxes, threats, burns, or insults. Satisfied?"

Neville looked slightly sheepish. "Trust has to have a base, Professor."

Despite the sentence, the Doctor took the formal use of title as a good sign, since he had not demonstrated such respect in the classroom. "I know," he replied solemnly. "Let me know when you intend to act. Contact me through the coin – but I'll tell you this right now. I don't approve of letting children fight, but I do recognise when it's impossible to avoid. In the circumstances I think it's better you at least do it as safely as possible. That doesn't mean that I'll help you get into hair-brained schemes or risk your lives unnecessarily."

Neville nodded. "Alright."

The Doctor grimaced. "And now I have to go and patrol the corridors. Wait for my signal to exit the room. I'll Disillusion you so that you're not seen on the way back to your dormitory. Learn the spell. You'll need it."


	11. Gaining Trust

**Author's Note: **Thank you as always to those who are reading. Your comments and support are much appreciated! You have no idea how much trouble I had with this chapter, though - when I finally managed to get it going, the computer crashed on me, and I lost half of it. So I had to re-write it and...it crashed. Again. So I now present you with the third re-write. I hope you enjoy it!

**11. Gaining Trust.**

The Doctor sat in the study he had reluctantly inherited from the Carrows, trying to ignore the image directly in front of him of a Cruciatus victim. The twisted, agonised features looked almost as torn as he felt. It was as though he were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and although he had much experience with the feeling, that didn't make it any easier to bear.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, and stared resolutely at the parchment before him. It was an essay on ghosts and inferi – he had set it as class homework as a reminder of who was in charge after Neville had walked out. Having chased up those reluctant to do the work (who were currently in an ominous detention with Filch), he was finally sitting down to mark them.

"Habits of Inferi," one essay read, "include drooling, gargling, and moaning."

The Doctor snorted, and almost knocked over a bottle of ink. Raising his eyebrows and wondering what the future of this essay would bring, he read on, quill lying abandoned for the moment.

"Although these habits are often detrimental to the achievement of their goal, Inferi are often used by Dark wizards for the simple reason that the idiots refuse to die."

The Doctor checked the parchment for a name, but apart from the mock essay, it was blank. For a moment, he seriously considered asking Donna to come into the office so that she could laugh over the essay as well, but remembered with a pang of disappointment that she was still stuck with Filch for the day.

"One must wonder, however, whether said Dark wizards merely raise Inferi in order to appear more intelligent to their followers-" the Doctor chuckled, Voldemort and his Death Eaters immediately springing to mind "- who are, of course, not of an intellectual disposition themselves. It is a widely understood fact that Dark wizards surround themselves with followers considered to be inferior in order to boost their already considerable ego. An added benefit," the essay continued, really getting into the swing of the rant, "is that Inferi are no different to the ordinary followers, making it much harder for the aforementioned minions to be incarcerated."

The Doctor did a quick count of the remaining pile of parchment, and discovered that all students were accounted for. This essay was a spare, and unnamed. A slow smile spread over his face as he held the mock essay up to another piece of parchment, the writing holding certain similarities. The culprit had attempted to change their writing – not very successfully, he had to admit – and had made sure that they were, as they thought, hard to catch.

He finished the essay and re-read it, noticing that the style often varied throughout. A team effort, then, but the handwriting was all one person. He smiled, leaning back in his chair, and then scrawled, at the bottom of the parchment, "Detention, Longbottom, my office at eight."

He would hand it back tomorrow in class and see if the boy got the message. Smile still on his face at the prospect of finally being able to help, he reluctantly put aside the parchment and moved onto the rest of the pile, quill in hand and ready to make scathing but helpful comments.

Two hours later, the fire was burning low in the fireplace and the Doctor's eyes were beginning to feel the strain of continuous reading, but he had finally finished the marking he had to do. Pushing himself up from the desk, he made his way through a door in the back of the study and emerged in his and Donna's quarters, sinking gratefully on the sofa next to the fire. The faint warbling of the Wizarding Wireless and accompanying singing indicated that Donna was taking a bath in the next room.

He shrugged out of his robes and flung them over the back of the sofa just as Donna came into the room, pink dressing gown on and curlers in her hair. She was singing into her hairbrush and didn't appear to have noticed him.

"- it's magic!" she started to dance around the coffee table. "You knooow-"

The Doctor winced at the dramatically off key high note, wondering if he should let her know he had finally arrived, but a second later the decision was made for him as she jumped around on the spot, still singing, and caught sight of him.

"Never believe it's not…" she froze, hairbrush still raised to her lips, head bent in mid head bang, arm raised in the air. "Not… _Doctor_!" she exclaimed, straightening up quickly and throwing the hairbrush at him, "you could have told me you were back!"

The Doctor stopped the hairbrush with a quick bit of wandless, wordless magic and sent it whizzing back at her, grinning as it flew around her, poking her. "You know I live here," he reminded her, "and I was enjoying your singing too much to interrupt."

"Oh _ha ha_," she muttered sarcastically, trying to bat the brush away frantically, "we both know I'm not going to enter the X-Factor any time soon."

"Well, you know what they say, 'practice makes perfect'," the Doctor teased, reluctantly calling off the hairbrush attack as she began to smack it harder and harder in frustration.

She pulled the dressing gown tighter around herself and folded her arms, looking slightly embarrassed and annoyed. "You could _warn_ me next time before I do that again!" she shouted, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

"I've shared space with you for a while, Donna, I know you sing in the shower – or, in this case, bath..."

There was a short silence from the other room. "You already knew?"

The Doctor grinned at the door. "You sing very loudly, Donna, and the TARDIS echoes slightly – I could hear you from the control room. Always could."

"Oh, _wonderful_. You could have _told_ me, Space Boy!"

"I thought you knew," he replied. "And since when do you wear curlers? I thought you liked your hair poker straight?"

"I do – I just feel like a change of scene." There was a slight pause. "And Filch said he liked my hair."

"I thought he liked the Headmaster?"

"He does," Donna replied grimly, reappearing from the bedroom dressed in jeans and a shirt. "But that means he likes long-ish, straight hair too, as he told me today. I found these," she indicated the curlers, "in his office – I think he confiscated them from a student once, they were quite dusty, but I cleaned them off and they look safe enough," she added, seeing the Doctor's expression. "They haven't exploded yet, Doctor – I think they're fine."

The Doctor jumped out of his chair and strode across the room to her, wand out, and examined the curlers. "They're stuck to your head, Donna."

"Of course they're stuck to my head! They're curlers! How can they curl my hair," she demanded, "from the floor when they've fallen off?"

The Doctor tapped them with his wand. They didn't budge. "No, I mean they're really stuck."

"Oh, come _on_, they're not _stuck_, how can they be..." she trailed off when the Doctor didn't interrupt her to tell her he had been joking. "They are, aren't they?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, yes. They're stuck."

"You mean to tell me," Donna carried on, voice rising, "that these plastic tubes of _rubbish_ are _stuck _to my _head_?"

"Try and take one out, if you don't believe me, but I'm telling you, they're not going anywhere."

"So what do we do? Doctor?"

"I don't know," he replied, trying not to laugh. "My field is aliens and unexpected monsters, not hair curlers."

She raised a threatening finger. "You better not find this funny, Space Man, because let me tell you..."

The Doctor resolutely clamped his mouth shut and tried to look serious.

Donna 'harumph'ed at him. "Oh, what's the _point_? This is _you_ we're talking about. You never pay a blind bit of notice to what I say in this sort of situation, do you?"

"Never," he confirmed cheerfully. "And that's what you love about it."

"I'll tell you what I love about it – I'd love having these, these _things_ out of my hair, that's what I'd love about it!"

"Alright!" the Doctor muttered, waving his wand over them again, "don't panic!"

"I'm _not_," Donna said emphatically, "_panicking_! I just don't want to go to work tomorrow morning with my hair still like _this_!"

"At least now you know not to touch stuff in Filch's office..."

"You're enjoying this," she accused. "Here I am, stood with curlers in my hair that might be there forever-"

"They won't be there forever," the Doctor muttered, though at this stage he wasn't entirely convinced.

"-and you're _laughing _at me!"

"I'm not laughing, Donna," he said, forcing his voice to keep steady, "I'm just focussing on getting them out of your hair."

"Yeah, well," she said, sounding like she didn't believe him, "hurry up about it!"

"Maybe if I do this," the Doctor muttered, twisting his wand, "it'll loosen the-"

"OW! Ow, ow, no – STOP, you're _tightening_ them!"

The Doctor hastily lifted his wand away. Donna turned around to glare at him, the skin on her face now pulled taught as the roots of her hair were being pulled even further into the unyielding curlers. The Doctor was forced to bite his lip, but he couldn't stop the snort that signalled his opinion of the situation.

Donna threw her hands into the air. "Don't they have a spell for this or something?"

"Not-" the Doctor gasped in a steadying lungful of air and Donna glared at him anew, "Not that I know of," he managed finally. "And you know I've memorised the textbooks I've read."

"Show off," she muttered. "If you'd just let me do magic I'd be free by now. This is the sort of thing that women look up first – but _no_, I have to be stuck as a Muggle!"

"Donna, we've been through this-"

"Just..." she waved her hand vaguely in the air, looking impatient, "it doesn't matter, Doctor, just get them out my hair."

"That might be easier said than done..."

Ten minutes later, and the Doctor had tried everything, but still the curlers wouldn't budge. "There's only one solution left," he announced gravely, conjuring scissors. "I'm sorry."

"What? No – no, no, no, don't you _dare_ come near me with them!" Donna wriggled free of the Doctor's grasp and backed up against the wall.

"I can find a spell to re-grow hair-"

"_No_," she repeated. "If you don't know one, you're not cutting it!"

"I can't do anything else, Donna, unless you want me to drag you to the Headmaster, but I really don't think..." he trailed off at the desperate look on Donna's face. "You're not _serious_? Him – _really_?" he sputtered, completely surprised.

"Well I'm not letting you cut it, and Snape was probably the one to confiscate them anyway – he confiscates _everything_ in this castle! How else do you think Filch started to like him?"

The Doctor blinked. "He really does tell you everything, doesn't he?"

"It's a talent I have," Donna replied shortly. "Are you taking me to him or not?"

The Doctor sighed. "Are you sure? I'd have thought you'd be sat here with your head in a bag refusing to see anyone, and you want to go to _Snape_?"

Donna's jaw set stubbornly. "I know he'll insult me to death, but I'm _not_ walking round like _this_ for the rest of my life, and I'm not letting you shave me bald!"

"It wouldn't be _bald_, you'd still have a tuft or two..."

"Doctor!"

"Alright, alright, hang on, I'll Floo the Headmaster..."

"Wait," Donna interrupted, holding up a finger, "I don't want you turning into a moose on me."

The Doctor stared at her. "Moose?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Honestly, _men_. Never remember a thing. Do I have to mention everything around here? Snape's fireplace was jinxed, wasn't it? Turns everyone into a moose..."

The Doctor's eyes lit up in realisation. "Donna, that was _weeks_ ago."

Donna crossed her arms. "You never tell me anything! Is it because I'm a 'Muggle'?"

"No - it's just...when was it ever going to crop up in conversation? I couldn't just walk up to you and randomly tell you that no one else has turned into a moose - and you don't even know how to use a Floo!"

"That's because I've never _had_ to, Space Boy. And what about Carrow's antlers?"

"They're apparently a bit more difficult to get rid of - but if you ask me, Madam Pomfrey's using the situation to get revenge. Now, do you want me to sort out your hair, or not?"

"I just didn't want you to turn into a moose - how would you use your wand?" Donna asked. "Go on then - and be quick about it. I'm not staying like this forever."

The Doctor walked towards the Floo, Donna keeping a healthy distance between them as though she assumed that he would lunge forwards and cut off her hair in one swooping motion. Rolling his eyes slightly, but not so that she could see – he would never hear the end of it if she did – he picked up a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, watching as the flames leapt. Shouting out the destination, he bent down and, with a small wince, plunged his face into the flame.

"Headmaster?"

The man sitting at the desk sat upright with a jerk, his eyes flying towards the fireplace and his wand out before he had even seen who was there. When he saw it was the Doctor, he lowered his wand and scowled, but did not immediately put it away.

"What is it?"

The Doctor peered closely at him, noting the huge amount of letters scattered across the desk and wary expression, and put two and two together as only he could. "Were you asleep at your desk?"

Snape's scowl increased. "That, Bartemus, is none of your business."

"It's alright," the Doctor said, still staring at Snape, "there's no one here but Donna. Not in my end, I mean."

"I know what you meant," Snape snapped, finally putting his wand away. "What's the problem?"

"Well…it's a bit of a random predicament; really, you probably wouldn't believe it, but-"

He felt a poke in his ribs. "Oh, get _on_ with it, Doctor!" Donna's voice was strangely muffled.

"Is this urgent, Doctor? I have a lot to do, as you can see."

"Thing is…" the Doctor ran his hands through his hair, "oh, how do you say this without it sounding completely out of the blue…well, Headmaster, Donna's-got-her-hair-caught-in-curlers," he finally bit out in a rush, hoping to get the conversation over and done with, "and we need your help."

Snape blinked, and the Doctor could practically see the cogs in his mind whirring as long years of practice dealing with guilty, fast-talking students kicked in. "Hair curlers."

The Doctor fidgeted uncomfortably. "Yes."

Snape's lips twitched, despite his stern demeanour from earlier. "Then I do not see the problem, Doctor. Surely you can deal with this situation yourself, taxing though it undoubtedly is."

"I can't, I've – _ow_, Donna, don't poke me, I'm talking to him! – I've tried everything, Headmaster, but all I managed to do is tighten them…"

"Indeed?" His lips twitched again. "Then you shall have to cut them out."

"She…doesn't really seem that keen on the idea, Headmaster."

"It might be an improvement," Snape sneered.

"Look – do you know how to help her or not, Headmaster? I feel like – ow – I'm being attacked by a woodpecker."

"Amazing," Snape drawled as he slowly stood up and walked over to the fire, "how even a _formidable_ wizard such as yourself is reduced to babbling from a fire by a woman armed only with _fingers_."

"She's – ow – a lot stronger than she looks, Headmaster, trust me."

Snape snorted. "Get out of the fire, then, I can't get into your room with you clogging up the fire."

Obediently, the Doctor moved out of the way and batted Donna's finger away. "He's coming."

Sure enough, Snape stepped through the fire, pale face struggling to hide all traces of amusement as he looked at Donna. A black eyebrow rose. "It seems that Muggle beauty methods have reached new levels." He peered closer, taking in Donna's slightly stretched skin. "Entirely unsuccessful, of course."

"Oi!" Donna flared up, pointing a finger into Snape's chest, "stop insulting face lifts – this is _your_ fault!"

"My fault?" Snape demanded in surprise.

"You confiscated these, didn't you, and gave them to Filch!"

Snape glanced at the curlers. "I do recognise them," he admitted, "though I had no idea that Argus decided to keep them."

"Probably wanted a souvenir," Donna muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Donna…" the Doctor began, giving her a warning look.

Snape turned to him. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," the Doctor answered immediately, keeping his mind warded. "If you've seen them before, do you remember how to get them out?"

Snape stared at him a moment longer, his eyes becoming endless black holes, before finally turning back to Donna. He flicked his wand and the curlers fell out, allowing Donna's hair to fall free around her face. The Doctor couldn't help it – really, he tried, but biting his lip just wasn't enough this time and, before he knew it, he was laughing. Even Snape had a slight smile on his face, although it was beginning to morph into a malicious smirk as he struggled to reign in his amusement.

"What?" Donna demanded. "What is it? Doctor?"

"I – sorry, Donna," he gasped, "but – it's…your _hair_…"

The smirk was fully in place on Snape's face now. "How inventive," he purred. "The Weasley twins shall sorely be missed," he finished, though the Doctor wasn't entirely sure if that was sarcasm or not. Perhaps he really had enjoyed the twins' inventions.

Donna stalked over to a mirror, and stared dumbly at it for a moment. "I _look_," she finally said, shock lining her voice, "like a _poodle_!"

She span around, hair bouncing wildly, and the Doctor struggled valiantly to keep a straight face. "Well," he chuckled, "it'll really get Filch."

"'Get Filch'?" Snape repeated, before Donna had a chance to reply. He looked truly astonished, now, as he turned to stare at Donna.

Donna blinked at him for a moment, too, before it kicked in. "I – what? _No_! It's not that – it's _not_ what you think, Snape –it's just that-"

"I never knew," Snape interrupted, "that Argus was considered even remotely desirable."

Donna choked on that, her expression torn between righteous indignation and sheer amusement. "Not for me."

"This recent…" Snape's eyes flew to her hair, "_makeover_ has nothing to do with trying to gain Argus' affections?"

Donna was turning red, now. "No," she gasped out, mirroring the Doctor in biting her lip, "no – he's not my type! It's to put him off."

Snape's eyebrows rose higher. "Argus has expressed an interest?"

Donna's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and the Doctor hurried to intervene. "No – well, not really, apparently he said he liked her hair, which is, well…straight. So she decided to curl it…"

"I see," Snape replied, staring at them both as though they were insane. "Are there any other pressing 'emergencies', Doctor?"

"No, Headmaster. Thank you."

"In that case," Snape sneered, "I shall leave you to your womanly gossiping session, Doctor. I have work to do."

And with that, he disappeared through the fire, leaving the Doctor and Donna in uncontrollable hysterics.

oOo

The next evening, the Doctor sat in his office nervously awaiting the arrival of Neville Longbottom. He had returned the fake essay earlier that day in front of the entire class, plastering on a look of deepest annoyance and foreboding, and had returned to his desk to see what Neville's reaction would be to the ominous note.

The boy had blanched and looked up at the Doctor, who had forced himself to sneer in the most Snape-like fashion he could manage. Then the boy's eyes had widened – whether with understanding or anger, the Doctor had not been sure.

The class had gone smoothly enough, after that, though some students looked decidedly smug. Said students, he noticed, had also played a part in the essay. It wasn't until he had asked everyone to get into pairs and seen Neville talking to them that they had lost their amused expressions. In fact, they had looked openly alarmed as they glanced between the Doctor and Neville, though fortunately no one else had noticed.

Which meant that the Doctor, not knowing whether Neville realised what was happening or not, was now sat at his desk, checking the time every now and then. He glanced at the door. The boy was late.

The Doctor got up and began to pace, running his hand through his hair, his mind running in circles. What if the boy had run off? He would have to go and search for him, give him more detentions to make up for this one, and then –

The door creaked open and the Doctor span around, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw who was there.

Neville Longbottom sauntered defiantly into the room, ten minutes late, his chin raised high. He didn't even apologise.

"Sit down," the Doctor ordered, and then moved to slam the door shut, warding the room as he went. Wards up and ensuring that they would not be interrupted or overheard, and the Doctor was finally safe enough to drop his act.

"What prompted the essay, Neville?"

Neville looked back at him defiantly. "Aren't you going to reprimand me for being late?" he challenged. "Tear my head off for insulting you and every other Death Eater out there? Kill me, for insulting your Lord?"

"No," the Doctor said simply. "I told you before, Neville, I'm on your side, and nothing is going to change that."

Neville seemed to mull that over, his eyes searching the Doctor's face, before he finally spoke. "I've managed to get five other members. The DA is going to start up again."

The Doctor grinned, feeling his heart lift at this simple show of trust. "Brilliant! Who?"

Neville remained silent.

The Doctor nodded. "Alright, I understand. You don't want anyone but yourself to be in trouble in case I turn out to be on the wrong side, right, Neville? I hope you come to trust me more in the future, but I'm not going to try to force it. How are you going to plan meetings, through the coins?"

Neville nodded. "I'll let you know through your coin, as well, but if there are any signs you've betrayed us, even once, I'll find my own way to communicate secretly."

"I understand. The meetings are going to be spontaneous, in case of ambush?"

"Yes."

"And you're the new leader."

"Yes."

"Right, good," the Doctor nodded approvingly. "They picked a good leader."

Neville blushed, but his words were harsh. "If you're trying to get more information through flattery, you should stop. It won't work."

"I'm not. I'm stating a fact." Neville blushed some more and the Doctor sighed. "When was the last time anyone gave you any praise, Neville?"

"What?"

"You act like you've never heard a positive comment before. Anyone else would have brushed what I said off, they wouldn't have batted an eyelid – but you…you look surprised, as though you can't believe anyone would ever think so highly of you."

Neville gaped at him. "I…I'm not the best in my class." His eyes dropped to the floor. "You could even say I'm the worst."

"That's not true. I've been teaching you for a while now, and I _know_ that you're not useless."

Neville shook his head. "I made my partner fly into a wall, last time you asked us to disarm each other-"

"That's nothing more than a sign of great power mixed with nerves. Under the circumstances, I'd have been surprised if you had pulled it off perfectly. How many people did you see do it properly, in that lesson, with two Death Eaters in the room watching their every move?"

"Not many," Neville said reluctantly. "Only some Slytherins. Maybe one Gryffindor."

"Exactly. But before we end up going completely off subject, we need to sort out what you're going to teach this illegal army of yours – I can help coach you."

"What about my detention?"

The Doctor smiled. "It's a detention in name only. I will have to send you down to Filch later-" Neville tried to hide a flinch "-but I don't want to, and I won't after this session, not unless you do something to deserve it. But you have to understand, Neville, that lots of people know about that essay you did and what was in it – I know who helped you, but I'm not punishing them. I'm going to turn a blind eye this once, but I can't in the future. You're going to be the one 'caught', since you wrote it, and your handwriting was recognisable, and the others need to understand that I'm not happy with what you did. If that means making you look like you've had the worst detentions in the world, we'll have to do it."

"But…if you're only sending me to Filch once…" Neville trailed off, seemingly unwilling to finish the thought.

"I'll be training you in duelling," the Doctor finished, "so that you can teach the DA. You'll end up with some battle scrapes, there's no avoiding that. All you have to do is pretend that I lose my temper during detention and lash out."

"And you'll help me get into the Room of Requirement when I ask?"

"Yes. You'll come here every night at eight for two weeks – that'll make it look like you're stuck in detention, but after that, when you've picked up a few more jinxes, you'll be free to start up your army."

"Won't people wonder…" Neville stopped and seemed to re-think his words. "I've never been the best at defence."

"Did you never try to hone your reflexes, learn spells, increase your ability to sense people creeping up on you – did you never try to do that when you heard how Snape killed Dumbledore, that there was a chance he'd be Headmaster?"

Neville nodded, his expression clearing. "Every day."

The Doctor smiled. "Then there should be little reason for people to question you, when you have an excuse and the outcome is good."

"Alright," Neville nodded. "I'll try it. But if they get suspicious…"

"Let me know, if they do," the Doctor finished. "Now, I'm sorry, Neville, but we've been in here long enough for me to have ranted at you, and you have a detention with Filch to go to."

Despite the prospect of Filch's painful views of vengeance lying ahead, Neville looked more cheerful than when he had come in. "Thank you, Professor."

The Doctor grinned. "No problem, Neville." He waved his wand and dropped the wards. "Look less happy," he whispered, before shoving the boy out the door into the corridor. "And if I ever catch you at it again, Longbottom," he hissed for the benefit of the few students in the corridor, "you'll be strung up by your ankles faster than you can blink. And you lot," he snarled, staring at the rest, "get back to your dormitories before I take you to the Headmaster for being up after curfew!"

"But there's ten minutes-"

"I said _go_," the Doctor snarled, retreating into his office and slamming the door. He allowed himself a small smile as he let himself into his quarters. Things were finally falling into place.


	12. Spy vs Wand

**11. Spy vs Wand.**

**Author's Note:** I would like to take the time to once again thank everyone who has been reading and those who have reviewed. Your support is very much appreciated!

oOo

Donna shook her head and sighed in frustration, hands clenched in her lap as she struggled to re-group after that latest attack. The Doctor stood off to the side, a wordless spectator, watching and noting Donna's progress. Whilst it was true that Donna was by no means proficient in the use of Occlumency, she was certainly a long way forward from how she had been. She now had some defences, despite their crude nature, and was able to block light intrusions with her mind.

She was not, however, able to block strong and prying influences – something that Snape was attempting to teach her tonight. The portraits were silent, as usual, watching the development with unconcealed interest. Dumbledore, the Doctor thought, was watching Snape and Donna with a distinct amount of pride, his blue eyes twinkling in death just as they had in life.

Snape's lips lifted up in a small, barely perceptible smile, gone as soon as Donna lifted her head. "A passable attempt," he said simply, unaware that the Doctor had caught the lapse.

"_Passable_?" Donna repeated incredulously. "I almost blocked you, Plant Boy – you can't just sit there and pretend-"

"I am doing no such thing," Snape replied shortly. "Perhaps you would prefer insults, despite the colourful protest you staged against my usual methods? More incentive, maybe? I am given to understand that teaching methods have recently changed significantly."

The Doctor allowed a small smile to grace his lips as Donna turned to look at him, a request in her eyes to pummel Snape, he suspected. She harrumphed as the Doctor shook his head. "You don't really believe that, Headmaster," he said as Donna reluctantly settled back into her seat. "You spend most of your time trying to prevent the new 'methods' – you're not suddenly going to start using them to threaten us."

"A simple reading of _books_ is hardly going to enlighten you to my reasoning," Snape replied scathingly, though his eyes held no malice.

The Doctor's smile widened. "Oh, you'd be surprised at how many of my suspicions have been confirmed. You can deny it all you like, but there's no escaping the fact that _I know you_, despite how much you try to get out of it."

Snape snorted, but apparently decided to bail out of the conversation before it entered even more dangerous waters. "Again," he ordered Donna.

Donna groaned. "You already managed to plant a small devil with a jackhammer in my brain – and you want me to do _more_? You're _mad_, Snape – isn't he mad?" she added, turning to the Doctor.

"Certifiable," the Doctor replied.

"Yes, thank you," Snape drawled. "I had no idea that you were both such experts in psychology."

"When you've lived for as long as I have, Severus – can I call you Severus?" the Doctor added as Snape's face registered surprise and trepidation. "We've known each other for ages and, let's face it, using titles all the time is getting really annoying. I can't really go around in dangerous situations yelling 'Headmaster' – by that time, it'd be over. Then again," he rambled, "it might look strange if someone looking like Bartemus suddenly yelled 'Sev', even if it does save time…Where was I? _Yes_, that's right – I must _really_ be getting senile, the amount I've been rambling – but when you've lived for as long as I have, you learn to read people, to tell the good from the bad."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Finished?"

The Doctor coughed. "I think so, yes."

A smirk curled Snape's lips. "Good. I feared for a moment that you had ingested a Babbling Potion."

Donna's mouth dropped open. "Sarcasm? _No_! You? That's new."

Snape ignored her completely. "To answer your earlier, excessively inarticulate question, you may address me in private in whatever manner you see fit. It hardly matters to me."

"Can I?"

"Yes, Miss Noble. You have already done so for a long while, after all."

"Plant Boy it is, and now you can't complain," Donna said triumphantly.

"How very unfortunate."

Dumbledore chuckled from his portrait. "It is a relief to see you making new acquaintances, Severus. I admit to wondering if you would remain alienated completely whilst facing such a rough path ahead."

The Doctor glanced at the portrait, a frown between his brows even as Severus scowled in apparent embarrassment and annoyance. "You're not insisting that we get out before we know too much?"

"Well," Dumbledore chuckled amiably, "that would be quite impossible, under the current circumstances. Mental contact does limit the amount of secrets one can keep, after all, and you claim to have read books which possess, at the very least, a passing similarity with our world."

"Interesting."

"Why?" Donna asked, twisting in her chair to look at the Doctor. "What's so weird about that? It's good, isn't it?"

"The Dumbledore in the books just left the Severus of that world without anyone to turn to, without anyone to save him if he fell. He just…_gave_ him a load of information, expected him to keep it locked up tight, and wait until the last minute to finally tell Harry the secret that would win the war – sorry," he added, noting Severus' interested expression, "spoilers, and you probably know, anyway, at least a bit of it. That was a very dangerous thing to do, loading that amount of pressure onto one person – one person who _already_ walked a very fine, stressful line between life and death."

The Doctor looked at Severus. "It could easily have pushed him over the edge."

Severus stared back, unblinking, before his eyes darted to Dumbledore's portrait. Dumbledore, as though reading the question, shifted. "I admit that initially, my intention was for you to be the main link between Light and Dark, Severus, but now-"

"If the Doctor and…" he hesitated for a moment, before continuing, "Donna had not arrived, I would be alone."

The atmosphere in the room had suddenly become very oppressive. "Yes."

"And, although you claim to be concerned at my lack of interaction with the staff, you would not have acted to convince me to seek help?"

Dumbledore was beginning to look slightly uncomfortable. "If the war was progressing according to plan," he admitted, "I would have let you act as you believed necessary."

"And if all had not gone to plan?"

"I would have insisted that you bring Minerva to speak with me. As head of the Order of the Phoenix, she would have been in the best position to help you."

Severus' eyes still stared at the portrait. "You would only have interfered, then, if my inability to cope threatened the future of the Wizarding and Muggle worlds alike."

Silence.

Severus scowled. "You did not inform me that I could seek help should I believe I needed it. I distinctly remember," he continued, getting to his feet, "that you underlined the _imperative nature_ of secrecy."

"For the greater good, Severus – you agree with me, of course, or you would have taken matters into your own hands."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "It did not occur to you that I did nothing else because I trusted your judgement, Albus? That I disagreed, but decided that, as you so often claim, you knew best?"

Donna turned to the Doctor, raising her eyebrows. He sighed, nodding in agreement. He did always seem to cause arguments at the most inopportune moments. He had only meant to highlight the differences in the two worlds, not start a feud that could very easily lead to lack of co-ordination and, in turn, endanger the outcome of the war.

"Look," he began, but the argument was continuing without him, and he was drowned out.

"Severus, you understand the situation – the greater good is our primary concern, not the lives of individuals."

"How very utilitarian of you," Severus sneered. "Yet if your precious Harry Potter had been in the same situation, he would at least be able to rely upon his sidekicks. I, of course, was given no one."

"Both of you-" again, the Doctor was drowned out.

"The Doctor and Donna are here, Severus."

"-just stop for a minute!" he finished, speaking loudly, but both ignored him.

"They weren't at the beginning," Severus snapped, voice becoming rougher. "You claim that individuals don't matter, Albus. So answer me this – is Harry Potter unimportant?"

It was a loaded question, and Dumbledore clearly knew it. "Harry is pivotal for the war effort, as you well know."

"How very evasive, Albus. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were once a Slytherin." Severus walked closer to the portrait, apparently forgetting that the Doctor and Donna were in the room.

Donna, at a loose end, stood up and crossed the room to join the Doctor. "_Now _you've done it, Doctor…"

"Harry Potter is personally significant to you. You give him options were you would be unbendable for anyone else. You allow him to impart knowledge to his little Gryffindor friends – you send them off hunting Horcruxes together, yet your spy, in the clutches of the Dark Lord, is left to keep an entire school from destruction." He leaned closer to the portrait. "_Alone_."

"Harry is a younger wizard, Severus, and much less experienced. The guidance of his friends is essential. We cannot risk letting him wander unaided-"

"Which of course justifies your magical, life-threatening _treasure hunt_ completely."

"Doctor, what do we do?" Donna whispered. "Are we meant to let them argue like this?"

"Well… I can definitely say it's not in the books."

"You mean you've changed the timeline?"

"No…I think this was always meant to happen here."

"You're not _sure_?"

"The small events aren't always as clear as the large ones, Donna, even to Time Lords."

"A spy working behind the scenes is just as important as the wand that casts the final spell, Albus, yet you are more willing to jeopardise the last remaining person who holds all the knowledge that you deem essential."

"What is done is done, Severus," Dumbledore said, a hint of steel to his voice as he coolly regarded the wizard before him. "You now have your help, against my original plans, just as Harry has his. There is no practical use in further debating the issue."

Severus snorted. "This conversation is, at least, more explanation than I could ever expect from you, Albus. You always were a miserable quagmire of evasion, even in life."

He turned his back resolutely on the portrait and caught sight of the Doctor and Donna. For the second time that evening, there was a heavy silence before Severus blinked and collected himself.

"Again, Miss – Donna. You still have much to learn." He walked back to his desk and sat, staring at Donna expectantly as though nothing had ever happened.

Donna glared at Dumbledore before redirecting her gaze at Severus. "Are you alright?"

Severus blinked once more. "Why wouldn't I be?" he demanded abrasively. "I held no delusion that he cared for me personally."

Dumbledore bristled. "After all these years, Severus, you should know that statement to be false."

"Oh? Then perhaps you will forgive me for not being overjoyed at your apparent lack of concern, Headmaster."

"I have kept you out of Azkaban-"

A sudden scream split the air, so loud and shrill that it seemed it could split the glass frames of all the assembled portraits at once. It dragged and carried, echoing throughout the vast corridors of the school. As one, the living occupants of the office span to stare at the door.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear," an old woman murmured, looking traumatised. "What a terrible racket…"

"I thought you had forbidden the Carrows to torture, Severus?" Dumbledore added.

Severus swore, ignoring Dumbledore, and actually sprinted to the door, waving his wand as he went to cancel the privacy spells, before yanking it open and disappearing from sight. The portraits were murmuring now, hands clasped over their ears or jostling to get into each others' frames, the better to watch the commotion happening outside.

"Come _on_, Doctor!" Donna yelled, following Severus through the door.

Together, they pounded through the crowded corridors, fought their way down the stairs, barely aware of the students who were running towards the commotion, alternately white faced with terror or sadistically eager. Donna shrieked as her foot got caught on the trip step and she stumbled, almost falling down the stairs, but the Doctor somehow managed to keep her upright. Both of them panting for breath, they carried on running, struggling to keep pace with Severus, who seemed to be near frantic.

"Bloody – _hell_," Donna gasped, under cover of the shouted remarks of the students, "how – fast – does – he – _run_?"

And still the shrieking continued, even as the Doctor gave Donna a warning glance. They couldn't lose their cover. Not here, not now, when someone needed their help. In the distance, they saw Severus hurtle round a corner, skidding on the smooth floor and almost hitting the opposite wall, scattering terrified and confused students, before he picked back up his punishing pace.

They were just outside the Great Hall now, a knotted crowd of students clambering around a circle in the middle, watching the scene with a myriad of expressions and reactions. Some were cheering, others were trying to break through to help, but were being held back by their peers, and others seemed frozen in fright.

Severus skidded to a halt and shoved students aside. The Doctor and Donna wheezed to a halt, vaguely noticing that other professors were now joining the fray, wands out.

"What," Severus demanded, his tone breathless with exertion but nevertheless forbidding, "is going on here, Amycus?"

Another shriek, and the Doctor saw for the first time a normally timid third year writhing on the floor, eyes wide and unseeing as Amycus Carrow pointed his wand at her. "Just punishing a filthy Mud-blood, Headmaster!" he yelled above the noise, practically squealing with glee, his eyes shining with insanity.

Severus lifted his wand and wordlessly Disarmed Amycus, a sneer of disgust on his sharp features. "Have you no sense, _Professor_ Carrow?" he sneered, tone hinting that he very much doubted so. "If you berate the students in the corridors, the others are going to attack you, and I have no desire to drag your beheaded carcass to the Dark Lord and explain that you got yourself killed in a _school_."

McGonagall pushed past the Doctor, giving him a brief glare of deep distaste, before drawing level with Severus, her wand also focussed on Amycus, though her guarded expression suggested that she was watching Severus closely.

"He insulted our ideals!" Amycus bellowed indignantly. "I couldn't let such ignorance and stupidity go unpunished, could I?"

"You are supposed to come to me with any grievances," Severus hissed. "I made that clear enough that I thought even you had understood. Clearly I was wrong – apparently," he added, raising his voice slightly, "it is still acceptable to disrupt the school atmosphere at peak hours. The students were about to have dinner, were they not?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Use your brain," Severus spat, gesturing the crowd around him. "Do you see empty corridors where you will be uninterrupted? You have grown careless, Amycus, and disobedient. The Dark Lord has placed me in charge, and you _will_ follow the rules that I deem necessary."

"I hate to interrupt," McGonagall said loudly, sounding as though she would very gladly mute both of them, "but there is an injured student lying on the floor, and this situation is getting out of control, Headmaster." She glared at him, wand still visible. "You can stand here and argue about your _punishment_ and your _Master's_ orders until the cows come home, but I am going to take Miss Gollop here to the Hospital Wing immediately, whether you authorise it or not!"

With that, she crouched down beside the injured student – who was now whimpering on the floor, tears streaming down her face – and gently began asking her if she was able to walk.

"By all means, Professor," Severus replied quietly, still managing to sound annoyed despite the words, "but your insubordinate actions _will_ be discussed later. My office straight after dinner."

McGonagall directed another filthy glare over her shoulder. "Trying to give professors detention now, are you? Things must be getting desperate."

The majority of the students cheered, though some remained sullen. The Doctor forced a sneer upon his face and menace into his voice as he turned and flicked his wand, muting the students who were cheering. "Silence!" he roared needlessly.

Those who had looked sullen were now openly smirking.

"Into the Great Hall now, all of you!" the Doctor ordered, "Or you'll find that your dinner isn't as pleasant as you expected!"

Glaring, the students began to shuffle into the Great Hall even as McGonagall began escorting Miss Gollop to the Hospital Wing, a Patronus being sent ahead to explain the situation to Poppy Pomfrey. The other professors glared at the Doctor, Donna and Severus, and began to follow the students into the Great Hall. A short while later, and noise returned to the castle. One of the professors had rebelliously lifted the Doctor's spell.

Severus stood staring at Amycus Carrow, sneer still firmly etched in place. "Clearly, we have much more to discuss, Amycus, if our previous conversations have until now failed to make any impression upon you whatsoever." He jerked his head in the direction of the stares. "My office."

"Dinner-"

"I'm sure that your stomach is less important than obeying the Headmaster appointed by the Dark Lord," Severus said ominously.

Amycus scowled mutinously but obediently turned to follow Severus up the stairs. They were barely halfway up when Filch rounded the corner, looking as though he could faint from breathlessness at any second, closely followed by his ever present pet cat.

"Yes, Argus, what is it now?"

"Was – cleaning the floor – heard students…" Filch heaved a great lungful of air and looked Severus in the eye. " – Breaking in – your office – couldn't stop them-"

The rest of what he said was drowned out as Severus, swearing once more, broke into a run, leaping up the stairs three by three. Amycus cackled gleefully at the prospect of catching thieves and waddled behind him, leaving the Doctor and Donna to bring up the rear.

"Books again," the Doctor whispered to Donna, unable to resist.

"_Running_…" Donna gasped, clutching her side where a stitch seemed to be forming. "I bloody _hate_ it."


	13. Gryffindor's Sword

**12. Gryffindor's Sword.**

"STOP!" Amycus bellowed from behind Severus, waving his wand wildly in the vague direction of three students who were sprinting away from the office. "CRUCIO!"

One of them went crashing to the ground, yelling, and the Doctor recognised her as Ginny Weasley even as she squirmed on the floor, dropping what looked like a sword.

Severus stunned the other two in quick succession and turned to Amycus. "Lift the spell, we don't want-"

"_Another_ one, Severus?" McGonagall demanded, rushing to the scene and drawn, no doubt, by Ginny's continuing shrieks.

"I thought you were in the Hospital Wing."

McGonagall huffed indignantly. "Well I _would_ be, if the Hospital Wing's supplies weren't being used faster than they can be brewed. Poor Horace can't keep up – and now the students are going to suffer for it, Severus, if you don't do something to stop it!"

"_Cancel_ the spell," Severus repeated through gritted teeth. "Bartemus, Miss Noble, if you would...?" he jerked his head at the two stunned students.

The Doctor obediently walked over to them and tied them in ropes, noting the blond hair of Luna Lovegood and the tall build of Neville Longbottom. He frowned in annoyance, remembering the warning he had given Neville about not getting in Severus' way.

Ginny Weasley's yelling stopped and Severus rendered her unconscious and tied up with a single spell.

"This is completely getting out of hand!" McGonagall was saying, going red in the face.

Severus ignored her, turning instead to the small gathering of students who had been congregating nearby. "Why are you not in the Great Hall?"

"We – we were on our way there, but..." the student glanced at Ginny.

"Go, then. Now - before I change my mind and keep you in detention for wandering the halls."

McGonagall stared, oblivious to the Doctor, Amycus and Donna's presence. "What has _happened_ to you, Severus? You used to be-" she stopped herself, lips becoming a thin line.

"_On your side_?" Severus sneered, voice tight. "How incredibly naive of you, Minerva, to think so."

The older woman looked mutinous for a moment, but changed tack. "Ginerva Weasley needs the Hospital Wing-"

"No."

There was a tense silence, then, "Amycus, you may leave for now. It seems that our... _discussion_ shall be postponed."

"What about the troublemakers?"

"Bartemus and I can manage without you. I suggest you return to your long-awaited dinner."

"They tried to steal a sword, Headmaster!" Amycus exclaimed, waving the weapon about from where he had picked it off the floor after Ginny Weasley had dropped it. "A _weapon_! You can't just let them get away with this!"

"They will be punished in due course, and you do not need to be here to supervise it. Leave. _Now_, Amycus. And give the sword to me."

Handing the sword over with ill grace, Amycus slouched off, leering at McGonagall, who stared stiffly back. As soon as he was gone, the conversation resumed.

"They were right to try to steal it, of course. It doesn't belong in your office, Severus."

"And you're getting out of line," the Doctor growled, when Severus didn't reply.

McGonagall barely even glanced at him, and instead nodded at Ginny Weasley, still lying unconscious on the floor. "Headmaster..._Severus_, please, I must insist-"

Her tone seemed to make Severus snap back to life. "Well, well. Begging, Minerva? It hardly becomes you."

"Must you make everything so _difficult_? Severus, the way you're running this school-"

"Is none of your concern," Severus enunciated clearly. "Kindly escort these three reprobates to Hagrid for a three hour detention in the Forbidden Forest. And make sure to wake them first – I don't want them unconscious for the duration."

"At _night_?"

"Yes, at _night_. It would hardly be a punishment if they were picking daisies in the daylight. Bartemus, accompany her-"

"You _know_ of the creatures that come out at night! They'll be mauled-"

Severus smirked cruelly. "They should have thought of that before they broke into my office. Bartemus," he continued, as if he had never been interrupted, "make sure that she does what she's told."

The Scotswoman stiffened. "This will all come back to get you one day, Severus. I only hope I'll be there to see it happen."

"Gloating now, Minerva? You have changed." With one last smirk, Severus stalked off to the dungeons and Slughorn's office. The Doctor strongly suspected that, despite his harsh words, he was about to brew the potions the Hospital Wing needed, or at least drag Slughorn into the dungeons to do it.

The Doctor woke Luna and Neville. "The Headmaster has a little surprise for you, after your little stunt," he sneered. "Three hours in the Forbidden Forest – with only that great oaf Hagrid to protect you if werewolves come at your throats."

He reached down and grabbed hold of the shoulders of their robes, dragging them to their feet. "Send me a postcard. If you can."

oOo

The Doctor walked through the grounds, uncaring of the darkness surrounding him. The three students had returned safe and sound from their detention in the Forbidden Forest, during which Severus had reinforced the wards surrounding his office and other areas of interest.

Though the school body was subdued – as they always seemed to be these days – there was an air of smugness, as though this signalled the changing tide of the war. Now that Luna, Neville and Ginny had stood up to Severus, there was a small glint of hope in the eyes of some students.

Despite this, there were notable gaps around the House tables, as numerous students were either called home by worried parents (in which case, they were in more danger in the outside world) or escaped to the Room of Requirement to live permanently. The room was still used by Neville as training grounds – the Doctor, as their link among the staff, was well aware of this – but also allowed access for students who wished to live there permanently. Such students were also members of the impromptu army, and the Doctor could not help but wonder what he had unleashed.

This too had occurred in the books, but this did nothing to ease his conscience. What if he had convinced these students to needlessly endanger their lives? They weren't ready. He was giving Neville as much instruction as he could manage, with their busy schedules, but he was often wary of the Doctor and slow to trust the spells taught to him. He had little doubt that he was attempting to teach the army, but that could never erase the fact that these students were still children and completely unprepared for war.

Well...it was at least a comfort that he _was_ teaching them something. Even the smallest spell could help in a matter of life and death. He had been in enough battles to know that even the direst situations could be overturned.

He squinted into the distance. Was that...? No. It couldn't be. No one would be stupid enough to be in the Forbidden Forest now. He stared, wondering when everything had become so pear shaped, and cursing whatever gods he could name that everything always had to happen at once.

He shook his head and carried on walking, hand clasped around his wand.

It was winter now, the summer having well and truly faded, and a cold wind whipped through the air. Donna was safe in their quarters, warm and asleep, but he hadn't found himself quite so lucky. His thoughts had been whirring non-stop for a while, now, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to switch off and simply rest. Especially when he knew that anything could happen at any moment, in this castle.

The rest of the staff, with the notable exceptions of Filch and Hagrid, who were more removed from the circumstances, seemed to be equally as stressed. The Carrows hardly counted in his mind, he thought with a small snort of hatred. Rarely did the Doctor ever find himself hating with both his hearts – and yet he hated the Carrows. They were lazy, arrogant and sadistic. They awakened within him long forgotten instincts, instincts which had died during the last Time War. Instincts that had died along with his people.

He hated to think how he'd feel should he ever meet Voldemort when he was in his right mind. He shook his head, disgusted at the only memory he possessed of the psychopath. The longing for approval and respect associated with the memories made him want to go back in time and drag his alter ego away from the gathering, to shake some sense into him, but that was impossible.

Something flashed in the distance, and he drew to a halt. It was back – the light he had seen before, and it was coming closer.

A quick, muttered word made him invisible and inaudible. Creeping forwards, wand held aloft, he stepped into the forest. He could hear snapping footsteps now, crushing twigs beneath heavy shoes. A muffled oath and he was able to locate the person. Left a bit. There.

He flicked his wand and there was a muffled thud. Somewhere, an owl hooted, but otherwise the Forest was quiet. Almost ominously so.

Drawing closer, he rendered himself visible and audible once more, the better to unnerve the intruder and perhaps gain information. He had bound them with ropes, but left them able to speak. He bent and picked up the dropped wand, twirling it in his fingers as he approached the felled figure.

If the figure was friend – or at least, thought they were – the reaction would be positive. If enemy...well, he would be glad that they were wandless.

"It's _you_!" a young voice exclaimed, sounding slightly winded from the fall. The Doctor came to a halt, blinking in surprise. The voice was slightly different to the actor's, but recognisable all the same.

"Ronald Weasley," he stated, emotionlessly.

"It can't be you – you were Kissed!" the boy struggled against his bonds, eyes wide.

"Surely you heard of my return." Time to dig for information. He twirled the wand again, knowing that the action was an insulting one to a disarmed wizard lying helpless on the floor. "Of my little time machine?"

The boy said nothing.

The Doctor crouched next to him, keeping eye contact. "What are you doing here, Ronald?"

Ronald grimaced. "Don't call me that."

"Ron, then," the Doctor replied, ignoring the wince. "Why are you in the Forbidden Forest alone, hmm? It's dangerous out here – lots of spiders, creepy crawlies, werewolves..."

Ron paled. "And I s'pose you love all that, you insane bastard-"

"We've only just met, and you're already swearing at me," the Doctor observed, forcing humour into his voice, though inwardly he simply wished he could come clean. "How crude."

"Yeah, well we've only just met and you've tied me up – you can't talk."

"True. Now, much as I'm enjoying this banter, I really don't have time for it. Why are you here?"

"You know why – you tortured my sister!"

"Not I – Amycus had that honour."

"And then," Ron continued, not listening, but breathing hard and straining against his ropes, "you sent her out here, at _night_!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "With Hagrid. Not really much of a punishment now, is it?"

Ron frowned. "What?"

"Where is Harry Potter?"

A shadow passed over Ron's face. "He's not – what are you – I'm not telling you that!"

"Ah, so you know where he is, at least, even if you're not willing to share the good news. How is he?"

Ron stared at him as if he'd grown another head.

"Let's try this another way. You've broken into Hogwarts grounds. I take it you apparated as close as you could and walked from there."

"That's none of your business."

"Of course not, but it's obvious. Headmaster Snape should be arriving at any moment, and I want to find out what you know before he does."

"You'll just have to wait, then, won't you?"

"Expecto Patronum." His Patronus – an indistinct, four legged animal, it moved so fast - galloped off to the castle with the intent of finding Severus and telling him that the intruder was not dangerous.

"Now then, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. Which would you prefer?" The stubborn tilt of the Gryffindor's chin gave him the answer he needed. "Very foolish, but luckily for you, not a catastrophic decision. I know about Potterwatch."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come off it. Do you think I haven't heard the students talking about it? I know that you get your information from there. You probably heard that Ginny had been hurt from an inside source-"

"I'm not telling you who it is!"

"No, of course not. I only wanted to tell you that, as sources go, that one is very unreliable."

"You bastard! What have you done with her?"

The Doctor forced himself to smirk. "Oh, nothing as bad as what'll be done to you when the Headmaster arrives. You make a very visible and entertaining target, Ron – all lit up like a Christmas tree. I'm sure he'll be very amused to hear it."

"You'll pay for this! You're going to wish I was never-"

Before the boy finished his tirade, the Doctor flicked his wand and the ropes disappeared. He handed the boy back his wand. Ron stared at it, stupefied, jaw slack.

"The Headmaster likes his sport," the Doctor explained by way of explanation. "He'll have put more wards in place by now – he likes those he's trying to catch to run without hope. It appeals to his sense of irony. Of course, that depends on the victim not knowing, and I'm not supposed to tell but," he smirked, "telling appeals to _my_ idea of fun."

"You're a-"

A light coming closer indicated Severus' arrival.

"I don't think it's the appropriate time for insults, right now. Off you go, Ronald. _Run_."

Ron scrambled to his feet, staring at him. "You lot are _mental_," he spat, before haring off into the forest, wand tip mercifully not lit this time.

"So I've been told," the Doctor muttered to himself, hoping that at the very least he had warned Ron against the folly of returning to the castle.

Mere moments later, Severus ducked into the clearing, quickly scanning the area. He scowled and slashed at the air when he saw no one else in the vicinity. The Doctor felt magic slide over him, and knew that Severus had protected them from potential eavesdroppers.

"Well?" he demanded, stalking closer to the Doctor. "The wards alerted me to an unauthorised presence, you send me a Patronus, telling me to hurry, and now no one is here? Is this your misguided idea of a joke, Doctor?"

"It's not a joke, Severus. Ronald Weasley was here."

Severus' sneer fell off his face, to be replaced with surprise. "What?"

"He came here to get his revenge for what happened to his sister-"

"_Potterwatch_," Severus spat. "It could at least get its facts straight."

"Propaganda rarely does," the Doctor pointed out. "They're _trying_ to turn everyone against you."

Severus scowled. "And they endanger their lives by doing it – I might as well just leave them to their fate."

"But you couldn't do that, could you, Severus?"

Severus' scowl returned. "And why did you see fit to let young Mr Weasley leave? If, indeed, he has left."

"He's left. I told him you'd put up extra wards to keep him from escaping and that you were hunting him."

Severus' eyebrows began a quick ascent to his hairline. "Explain," he ordered tersely.

"Explain? Explain _what_? He couldn't _stay_ here – he has to keep searching for Horcruxes! I gave him some advice and then told him to run-"

"You _gave_ him _advice_," Severus repeated, incredulous and angry, "and then told him to _leave_? Doctor, I don't know how much you value your cover or, indeed, your life, but let me assure you-"

"No – no, no, no – it's not like that – I-"

"We could have kept him _here_," Severus snarled. "I need to find Potter – as you know, since you mentioned it earlier – and luring him here-"

"Would have been stupid!"

Severus folded his arms and levelled his best stare at the Doctor. "And how, exactly, would luring Potter here _away_ from outside danger from the Dark Lord, to give him more information, be a stupid effort?"

"Because he probably hasn't found all the Horcruxes yet! And much as you hate the idea of them being alone and looking for them, you know _someone_ has to - and we're both busy here, the adults are fighting for their lives-"

"You know nothing of-"

"I know the books!" the Doctor countered, "and I'm willing to bet that something as big as that – something as important to Voldemort as that is going to be the same! If Harry hasn't yet been sighted near Hogwarts, he hasn't finished them off!"

"The Horcruxes may be the same," Severus replied, "but the location may be different. How do you know that, simply because he has not yet returned, he has not finished?"

"Alright, then – what about you? He'll want to kill you, surely – he hasn't done that yet."

"Potter may be an idiot, but he is not stupid enough to put killing me before killing the Dark Lord."

"But one way or another, he _hasn't come here yet_," the Doctor emphasised, "and I've essentially just saved the life of his best friend. Ron is likely to tell him – about me being Bartemus, about me giving him backhanded advice – everything. And that, at least, will plant enough curiosity in them all to wonder about the management at Hogwarts."

Severus stared into the distance, arms still crossed, considering the Doctor's words. "Slow seeds of doubt – doubt that the Granger girl will no doubt try to back up with evidence before she lets the other two fools act…"

"_Exactly_. And you need to help them on their search, don't you, Severus?"

Severus looked at him sharply. "You know about the purpose of the sword."

"Of course," the Doctor said, unable to hide a grin. "That's the same in my world as well. Think about it, Ron has just seen a four legged Patronus, he's just been freed by me – even if it _is_ slightly dubious, they know that my return is mysterious – even some Death Eaters doubt it. Time machines don't exist yet – even Ron, a Pureblood, knew that – even if the Dark Lord can be tricked into thinking they do. This way, I'm a red herring."

Severus smirked, his lips threatening to twitch into a full blown smile for the first time since the Doctor had known him. "How Slytherin of you."

The Doctor dipped his head, grinning madly. "Thank you," he said sincerely, before something occurred to him and his expression became serious once more. "Now, tell me, because this could be the one thing that differs in this world and if it is…it'll blow that plan sky high."

Severus' smirk disappeared at the Doctor's tone. "Well?"

"Is your Patronus still a doe?"

Severus' jaw went slack. "I – yes. That is why you showed your Patronus, I presume?"

"I made sure it moved too fast for Ron to see the shape. You're the spy, Severus and – I don't know what it is – but _something_ tells me you're meant to be the one to give them the sword, like in my world." He smiled grimly. "But there's nothing telling me that I can't be a decoy. When they see your Patronus, they'll think it's me – my arrival and help is more likely to be believed than an unknown stranger mysteriously managing to give them advice. Especially because I've already helped them once."

Severus looked thoughtful. "It would appear that the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fall in place," he commented suddenly, before swirling around, cancelling the spell, and stalking back into the castle. Before the Doctor could even allow himself a brief moment of confusion at that comment, Severus added "and next time, Bartemus, _don't_ let them get away!"

And then he was gone, leaving the Doctor alone with his whirling thoughts.


	14. An Investigation

**13. An Investigation.**

**Author's Note: **Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing! Your support really means a lot to me and helps keep the story alive :D I hope you enjoy the next chapter! (And those who don't have accounts or who aren't signed in must do so, so I can reply! You know you want to!)

oOo

Donna cackled gleefully, practically falling off her chair in her mirth. "And then," she gasped, "Filch fell into the lake!"

The Doctor chuckled. "And then what?"

"Severus had to fish him out – he was wrapped up in one of the giant squid's tentacles, flying through the air and screaming – the student he'd been trying to catch had long gone-" she heaved in a huge lungful of air, "- so Severus gets him down, shoves his cloak at him, and stalks off to hunt the student!"

"Were they caught?"

"_No_ – they still don't know who it was!"

"Three years and they haven't figured it out?"

"Nope," Donna replied gleefully. "And Filch fantasizes about it all the time – he keeps asking me what I think might have happened if Severus hadn't been so distracted by the escaping student…"

"You know," the Doctor announced, "I feel quite sorry for him."

"_Tell me about it_ – imagine having _Filch_ chasing you round the castle like that! I'm surprised Severus doesn't hide whenever he sees him!"

"No…I mean I feel sorry for Filch."

Donna stared at him. "For _Filch_?"

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair and got up to pace around the room. "Well, if you think about it, he loves someone who _definitely_ doesn't like him back – and he's completely deluded about it, then he has us laughing about him in the background-"

"He doesn't know about that, though."

"Which might make it even worse, since you're his only confidant."

Donna paused to reflect about that for a moment. "Yeah…I suppose you're right – but that doesn't make it any less funny."

The Doctor snorted. "It should, shouldn't it, but it doesn't."

There was a short pause, then, "Do you think Severus knows?"

"From the way he was trying to reassure you about him, I don't think so. And he wouldn't guess, would he? Filch leers at everybody anyway."

Donna shook her head. "I wish he wouldn't – he's just _creepy_."

"I'm _very_ relieved he doesn't like you, though – I was worried he'd – _ow_, no, not again," the Doctor groaned, massaging his left forearm.

"Voldemort?"

The Doctor winced as the ache on his arm intensified. "Don't call him that, Donna, the Mark can sense it." He ran into the bedroom and rummaged around in his wardrobe, withdrawing a long black cloak and mask with a sneer of disgust. "I hate doing this," he muttered to himself.

"I know you do," Donna said gently from behind him.

The Doctor jumped around, not having heard her following him. "You could warn me you're behind me!"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Now you know how I feel whenever _you_ creep up on _me_, Space Boy." She smiled sadly at him as he put on his cloak and mask. "Don't go getting yourself killed, Doctor."

"That's not the plan," he said ruefully. "I'm more worried about who _else_ will get killed."

"You can't save everybody," she said softly, "you're not superman. Just…try not to get hurt."

The Doctor gave her a half smile, even though she couldn't see it. "I'll try. You look after yourself here."

"I will."

He nodded and turned swiftly to make his way towards the door. The Mark began to burn more insistently and he raced through the corridors, black cape flying, students mercifully nowhere in sight.

"Bartemus?"

The Doctor stopped instinctively and turned around to see Severus running towards him, mask dangling from his fingers as though he had not yet had time to put it on.

"Severus."

"You have been called?" Severus asked, not slowing his pace, the Doctor running after him.

The Doctor laughed, forcing the sound to be harsh. "Astute as ever, Severus. Do you have any idea what our Lord wants?"

"No," Severus answered shortly, shoving the mask onto his face.

They both burst through the front doors and charged down the grassy hills in the grounds, slipping and sliding on the rain-slicked ground. The moon kept a silent vigil as they opened the Hogwarts gates and closed them behind them, glancing at each other in silent communication before pressing their wands to their arms and disapparating.

They found themselves in what had been a quiet, ordinary Muggle street; but what was now a meeting place for what appeared to be every Death Eater in existence. Everyone seemed to be facing a roughed up house on the end of the street, chatting quietly.

"The Granger residence," Severus murmured.

The Doctor glanced at him, one eyebrow raised behind his mask. "How do you know that?"

"Dumbledore, in his infinite _wisdom_, decided to charge me with warding the brat's house last year in anticipation of his death." Severus snorted. "Needless to say, the house wasn't hard to penetrate."

"So why are we here now?"

Severus shrugged. "The Grangers were run out months ago – the parents were killed but the brat escaped. Perhaps she or one of her little friends was sighted here."

"Yeh're righ' 'bout tha', Snape," a rough, gravelly voice interrupted. "RiverWood reckons 'e saw the Potter boy-"

"Indeed?" Severus drawled, sounding immensely pleased. "Come, Bartemus, we must see the Dark Lord kill the boy. Where is he?"

"Inside, bu'-"

Severus walked off, not even letting the man finish his sentence. The Doctor jogged to keep up with him as he parted the crowd effortlessly. They reached the front door, which was hanging off its hinges and looking charred around the edges.

A man stood at the entrance, as though unsure whether he should enter. His white blond hair seemed to be luminous in the moonlight, looking ragged around the edges. His posture was tense, as though he was suffering through an internal debate, oblivious to the world around him.

Severus stepped up beside him, peering around the door. "Lucius," he greeted. "I have heard rumours that the Potter boy was sighted here not long ago."

Lucius Malfoy turned to Severus slowly, but the action was tired and defeated, none of the usual grace found in the movement. "Severus, Bartemus," he acknowledged, inclining his head slightly before turning back to the door. "Your rumours were correct."

The Doctor gasped. "Our Lord is victorious at last?"

Malfoy shook his head. "No. The boy escaped. The clumsy fool who summoned the Dark Lord is being punished as we speak."

The Doctor forced his voice to sound disappointed. "I can't hear anything."

"Privacy Wards," Malfoy explained. "Even I was sent from the room – he wanted to discuss the situation without interruption, I think, from anyone who arrived."

"Was anyone else with the Potter boy?" Severus demanded.

"I have only heard the Granger girl mentioned," Malfoy replied. "Unfortunately, I did not arrive in time to participate in the attempt to capture them."

"I wish I'd been here," the Doctor growled. "I'd have been successful. Our Lord could be celebrating at this very moment-"

"Who was the idiot in charge of the capture?" Severus demanded.

"Pettigrew's new recruit," Malfoy said dismissively. "He has been on watch here for two weeks now after the last one got killed. The Dark Lord is not pleased."

"And he shouldn't be," the Doctor snarled. "With idiots like that trying to get into our ranks, we won't need enemies when the end comes. It's disgusting," he spat. "They're lazy, incompetent-"

"And an utter hindrance," Severus finished, apparently amused at the Doctor's tirade. "I believe we all agree, Bartemus."

"Lucky for us that the other side can be just as stupid," the Doctor continued in derision. "If Potter had half a brain cell, he'd know this place is being watched."

"Severus has been giving me similar talks over the years," Lucius replied, amusement finally shining through the dull voice. "I don't think I've ever heard you insult a student as much as you insulted him, Severus."

Before the man in question could comment, a figure appeared in the doorway. The pale, skeletal face of a wrathful Lord Voldemort peered at all three of them, red eyes glinting in the moonlight, long fingers still holding his wand.

"Lucius," the cold, high voice commanded, "dispose of the mess in the kitchen."

Lucius bowed low, hair scraping the filthy floor. "Yes, my Lord." He hurried past Voldemort and off into the house, drawing his wand.

Voldemort moved out of the doorway and stepped onto the muddy lawn, completely unconcerned with the mess. His red eyes surveyed them. "Punctual as usual, Severus, Bartemus."

They both bowed low, murmuring 'of course, my Lord', in appropriately submissive voices.

"Are the Carrows with you?"

"I have not seen them, my Lord," Severus replied, straightening up.

"A pity," Voldemort said, spinning his wand in his fingers. "They shall, of course, be punished."

"A just decision, my Lord," the Doctor said.

Voldemort ignored him, pointing his wand at his own throat instead to magically raise its volume. "My loyal Death Eaters," he announced, shushing the crowd at once, "it seems that incompetence has once more made itself known among my ranks. If anyone," he hissed dangerously, "is to summon me through the Mark because of a Potter sighting, and I arrive to find that the boy is nowhere to be seen…there shall be consequences."

There was a ripple through the crowd as everyone envisaged the 'consequences'.

"We are now one member short," Voldemort continued. "A necessary measure. I do not allow my followers to be as brainless as those we fight against. I suggest that you all consider your actions more carefully in future. You are dismissed."

He flicked his wand again and his voice resumed a normal pitch as he turned to Severus and Bartemus. "I have something that I must take care of," he said, effortlessly being heard over the dying murmur of conversation from the crowd. "I want to know why they returned here after all these months," he commanded. "Search the house from top to bottom. Leave nothing untouched, and bring any evidence to me."

They both bowed once more. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded in satisfaction before wordlessly disapparating. Malfoy stepped out of the house, his steps ringing in the sudden silence. He nodded once at the Hogwarts employees before walking to a point further down the street. A loud 'crack' and he, too, was gone.

The Doctor sighed. "In we go, then."

Severus waved his wand over both of them. "Even here," he explained, "we could be overheard."

The Doctor couldn't help himself; he let out a short, tense laugh. "You're really going to turn into Mad-Eye Moody one of these days, Severus. I'm surprised no one else sees it."

"I did not survive this long as a spy on pure coincidence," Severus replied shortly. "Let's start upstairs and work our way down. Knowing Miss Granger," he said in a tone of exasperation, "she came back here for a book."

"You really think she'd risk getting killed for a book?" The Doctor shifted at the look of disbelief that Severus gave him. "Alright, silly question, but someone had to ask."

They reached the top of the half collapsed staircase with difficulty, moving rubble and ornaments as they went. "In there," Severus said quietly, nodding his head at a door that was half ajar.

The Doctor nodded his consent even as Severus slowly pushed the door open, wand held high and illuminated, throwing the room beyond into sharp relief. The bedroom looked as though it might once have belonged to a young girl; the walls were a light colour, diminished by years of sun exposure, barely recognisable as a tame pink. Books were scattered all over the floor, some of the pages torn and lying discarded, separated from the rest of the book. A desk was split in half, a leg flung haphazardly onto a small bed. Photo frames had smashed to the floor, their pictures lying still and ripped beneath the fractured glass.

A small line of blood was spattered across one of the walls, indicating an injury. The Doctor walked up to it and, grimacing, put his finger in it. It was not yet dry.

"They can't have gotten far," he announced. "I think they disapparated here." He pointed at the spot he was standing in. "Maybe they got injured as the Death Eater took one last shot at them."

Severus nodded before swooping down upon a stack of papers at the Doctor's feet. He began to sift through them, a frown of concentration between his brows. "Granger never cancelled her subscription to the Daily Prophet," he explained, "but the owls couldn't find her."

"So she's in hiding somewhere," the Doctor deduced, then smiled. "It seems your resident 'know-it-all' managed to find a way to confuse the owl post after all."

"No doubt she searched five libraries first," Severus snorted. "The owls must have left the papers here as a last resort." He held one up. "This one has a page ripped out of it."

"Really?" the Doctor squatted beside Severus, glancing at the headline. "'Death Eater Presumed Worse-Than-Dead Returns'," he read. And below that was written; 'full story on page three'. "Which page is missing?"

"Three," Severus replied, before holding up another paper. This time, it was The Quibbler. "It is the same for this one."

The Doctor examined that paper as well, frowning. "It seems they've decided to take the bait."

"Perhaps, but one can never be too careful where the three of them are concerned. They often reach the wrong conclusion."

"Oh, I don't know about that – Hermione was right about Rita Skeeter being an Animagus, she worked out that Remus Lupin was a werewolf…" he looked more closely at the other man's expression. "Oh."

"Granger had her suspicions about Skeeter," Severus clarified. "I caught her researching the woman's biography in the library. She was too focussed on keeping Potter from being killed to finish, however."

"And Remus Lupin?"

A shadow passed over Severus' face. "He bit a student after forgetting his potion," he said darkly. "He turned what was supposed to be his shift at patrolling the corridors into a desperate hunt for a murderous werewolf on the rampage."

"But…how did that work? Wasn't he inside?"

Severus snorted. "He saw a student on the grounds when he passed the Entrance Hall and decided to go after her. Apparently he considered himself above our warnings to stay inside and take his potion."

"That's terrible," the Doctor murmured. "Did the student survive?"

"She died in the Hospital Wing. Lupin was asked to leave immediately. I had to cover his classes for the last few weeks of term."

"So, if Lupin was sacked – it might be a bit of a strange question, if you don't mind me asking it – who found Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack?"

Severus blinked. "Black? He disappeared when he escaped from Azkaban."

The Doctor nodded. "Right, makes sense. He couldn't really go after Pettigrew when he was protected by the Dark Lord, could he?"

Severus frowned. "Pettigrew?"

"Sirius Black wanted to kill Peter Pettigrew for betraying the Potters?" the Doctor asked, searching for any sign of recognition. "No? Must be one of the differences. So – onto the next room?"

They spent the rest of the night searching the house and found, to their relief, that several wardrobes appeared to have been ransacked recently. It seemed that, anticipating their arrival, Hermione Granger had tried to cover her tracks by pretending to pick up some supplies – unless, as Severus suggested, she had simply decided to tackle two things at once.

Together, they decided to tell Voldemort that the only things taken seemed to be supplies. At this point, the possibility of the three teenagers learning to trust the Doctor was too attractive to risk blowing his cover by handing Voldemort the torn newspapers. They would just have to grit their teeth, throw up their shields, and prepare to lie for all they were worth.

They could only hope that the ex-students did, indeed, come to the right conclusion.


	15. New Allies

**14. New Allies.**

**A/N **_MerciaDragonslayer has requested a drawing of Moose!Snape, which can be found on Deviant Art under the pen name 'Les Varioufs' (my sister having helped me to draw it). Also, thanks once again to all who have read and reviewed this story so far! Just as a warning, the updates for this story may slow down a tiny bit as I'm trying to sort out university paperwork, but it will not be abandoned. I'll make sure I finish it for sure, so don't worry about that. Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! _

oOo

Voldemort, it seemed, had been relieved. The Doctor suspected that it was because there had been no evidence that the three ex-students had been searching for Horcruxes – instead, it simply appeared as though they were on the run. He and Severus had escaped the meeting unscathed – a rare treat for Death Eaters in this day and age, with tensions (and failure) running high.

They had been allowed to go through their daily routine as usual. In the Doctor's case, this meant struggling to keep his class at bay while not appearing to be too soft, and teaching Neville Longbottom to better defend himself. The boy was learning quite fast, contrary to what he claimed the professors believed about him. It seemed that all he had needed was sufficient motivation. Now, after a few weeks of practice, he was easily the best in the class. The Doctor knew it, Neville knew it, and the DA knew it – but the Carrows didn't.

Neville himself had come up with the plan to continue to appear incompetent before his other teachers. He claimed that he had been inspired by Dumbledore.

"He always acted as though he was really mad," Neville had said, "but you could see when you looked into his eyes that he wasn't. He was a formidable wizard. I think that's why Snape had to stoop to poison – he was too scared to face him."

The Doctor had agreed with that and had recommended that Neville ask the rest of the DA to do the same. It was for this reason that suspicion had been avoided among non-members, and the DA continued to meet. Neville had, of course, been right in the fact that many fellow members continuously wondered at Neville's newfound talent, but for the most part they seemed to simply be glad to learn. They were happy as long as they were able to protect and be protected, and as of yet Neville had not been forced to lie to them too much.

Meanwhile, Donna had been gathering more information on Filch's growing affection for Severus, and their daily gossip session (as wrong as it felt) was one of the sole methods they had left to keep themselves going. The other professors still regarded Donna as guilty by association and were unlikely to talk to her. The Doctor, too, was similarly isolated, his only companions aside from Severus being the Carrows.

On occasion, they had been able to convince Severus to take a break; sometimes even forcing him to sit in one of the comfortable chairs to the side of his office and have tea with them. On those days, Dumbledore would edge along the portraits and attempt to join in, but received little from Severus besides curt information.

It was on one of those evenings that the Doctor and Donna found themselves in the Headmaster's office, having secretly Flooed there sometime earlier. Whilst the Doctor was free to come and go as he pleased, Donna was not, and the Doctor was not about to leave her alone in their rooms while he was off somewhere else.

The fire was blazing in the fireplace as usual, making the room seem comfortable and warm despite the cold atmosphere of the rest of the school. For all three occupants in the room, this was a moment of escape and, as the Doctor surmised, of rare companionship for Severus after years of loneliness.

"You don't get on well with the other staff, do you?" Donna asked suddenly, mirroring the Doctor's thoughts as though she could read them.

Severus snorted. It was a faintly sad sound. "Not after I killed their favourite employer."

"I mean – did you get on well with them before that?" Donna asked softly.

"Do your books not tell you?"

"Stop being difficult," Donna chided, throwing a biscuit at him, "and just answer the question."

Severus bent to pick up the biscuit, his hair swinging into his face. "We were civil," he replied at last, his voice guarded.

Dumbledore chuckled from his crowded position inside someone else's portrait. "You were much more than that, Severus. I distinctly remember that you and Minerva had a rather successful betting system based on the Quidditch results. Two years ago-"

"There is no use in discussing the past," Severus said roughly.

Dumbledore sighed. "You must forgive me sooner or later, my boy."

"Must?" Severus snapped, glaring at the portrait. "There is no 'must' about it, Albus. Let me decide in my own time. Until then, I have nothing to discuss with you."

There was a pregnant pause before Donna spoke again. "I always wondered what it was like in this universe," she said quietly. "It just looked so magical on the big screen. All those broomsticks, magic wands and shouting letters – did you ever get a shouting letter?"

"I have lost count," Severus replied ruefully, sipping his tea slowly.

"Have you ever sent one?"

The Doctor snorted into his teacup, spilling the contents all over himself. "Now there's a thought."

Severus smirked. "It may surprise you to learn that I have not."

"Really?" Donna looked genuinely gob-smacked. "Why not? You're the type of person I'd have thought would send _hundreds_, I mean – no offense – you're not the mildest man around, are you?"

"I prefer to do my shouting and ranting in person. Howlers are too impersonal and unsatisfying."

"That I can believe," the Doctor said, causing several of the portraits to laugh.

Severus smirked. "There is a first time for everything, however."

"If we weren't in this situation," Donna said, changing the topic again, "I'd have loved to ride a broomstick. I don't think I'd have been very good at it," she added, grimacing, "but it would've been fun – I mean, me, hanging upside down and shrieking from a broom? Who wouldn't laugh at that?"

"I'm sure you'd be very good on a broom," the Doctor said.

"Don't patronise me, Space Boy – I know you think I'd be a total failure."

"You wouldn't."

"I'm scared of heights," she emphasised, lifting up a finger. "How can I ride a broom when I'm scared of heights?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied seriously. "How did you not break into hysterics when you're scared of the dark and found out why?"

Donna scoffed. "You're _not_ going to bring man-eating shadows into this – that has nothing to do with broomsticks!"

"It has everything to do with it," the Doctor replied, amused.

"Man-eating shadows?" Severus asked, looking bemused.

"It's a type of alien," Donna explained. "The Vashta Nerada – they literally _were_ shadows; they used to eat people who stepped in them, and all that was left at the end was a skeleton."

"Most races are afraid of the dark," the Doctor added, making his voice deliberately ominous, "and we found out why."

Severus looked as if he very much doubted what they were saying.

"Didn't you see this in our minds?" Donna demanded.

"The mind is a confusing and disorganised place," Severus replied. "Particularly yours."

"Oi!"

"I didn't see everything," Severus continued, as though Donna had never spoken, "but I saw enough to know who you were."

"Did you believe in aliens before you met us?" the Doctor asked, on a sudden whim.

"I never had much cause to consider it," Severus replied truthfully. "I was too busy trying to escape the _Marauders _and, later, the Dark Lord."

"Good point," Donna muttered. "But do you believe in it all now?"

Severus sighed at her. "If I did not," he said pointedly, "then this conversation would surely be a sign of my insanity."

"Good point. Again."

"Thank you."

"You don't have to be so sarcastic, you know," Donna said, tucking into another biscuit. "You'll only get beaten by me."

Severus snorted. "I doubt that-"

He interrupted himself as the door briefly flashed red. A quick slash of his wand, and the tea set was sent whizzing into his bedroom.

"What is it?" Donna asked. "What's going on?"

"Someone is coming up the stairs. Both of you – into my room. Now."

Donna sighed theatrically even as she stood up. "Why can we never have a nice, quiet conversation in this universe?" she demanded. "Actually," she added, as the Doctor also stood up and they began to walk into the other room, "I haven't had many, since I've been travelling with you, Doctor."

"That's why it's so interesting."

"_Quiet_," Severus hissed, closing the door in their faces seconds before the door to the office opened.

The Doctor and Donna shared a brief look. "It'd be wrong," Donna pointed out.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "it would. And he's probably put up one of his many charms anyway."

"Probably," Donna agreed.

There was a brief silence. "It can't hurt to check, can it?" Donna asked.

They both grinned and pressed their ears to the door, straining to hear the conversation on the other side.

"- to knock," Severus was saying, voice half irritated and half amused.

There was a strained silence before the other person spoke. "You have quite a few questions to answer, Severus." Minerva McGonagall.

"Oh? Then perhaps you would take a seat?" More silence. "No? Very well, suit yourself…" There was a creaking as Severus presumably leaned back in his own chair.

"How long has this been going on, Severus?"

"I cannot understand you, Minerva, if you insist upon speaking in riddles. Although I must admit, it makes a nice change from your usual brash lexis."

A single footstep indicated that McGonagall had stepped further into the office. "You had me fooled, Severus. I thought that you truly had become a turncoat."

"Indeed?" Severus asked, sounding faintly interested. "And what led you to change your mind?"

"You're not one."

"I see. You came into the office of the man who killed your employer and best friend," Severus drawled, "with no more evidence than 'you're not one'? How very foolish of you."

"Oh, don't be so difficult," Minerva snapped. "I know you, Severus – I taught you for half of your life and have been your colleague for years. I know when you've been talked into something you don't want to do, and Albus' death…Severus, I just couldn't believe it of you."

"You seemed perfectly happy to condemn me to death until now."

"I wasn't thinking," Minerva said promptly. "You had just murdered, as you yourself just said, someone I cared about deeply. I am sure that you agree that, me being a Gryffindor, logical thought at that point was not possible."

The Doctor could practically see the amused smirk on Severus' lips.

"At first," Minerva continued, "I wasn't sure if my suspicions were correct. I continued to act as if I hated you, and I apologise for that, Severus, but there was just too high a possibility that it would blow your cover if I were to do anything else."

"Or," Severus interjected, "that you were wrong."

"I know that I am right, Severus. I've been watching you closely. You look stressed," she listed, "you seem to avoid punishing the students, you stopped Carrow from attacking Miss Gollop in the corridor – you practically let Ginerva Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom off without punishment after they stole a sword…shall I continue?"

"Do the others know?"

"No. I haven't told anyone else of my suspicions, Severus; it was just too dangerous. And they didn't know you nearly as well as I did."

"Good. Then you do still have some modicum of sense left."

"You can still find time to be sarcastic?" Minerva asked, slightly amused as well as shocked. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Of course not," Severus scoffed.

The Doctor looked at Donna. "Do you think we should go all the way and tell her about us as well?"

"Do you think it'll help?"

The Doctor pondered it for a moment. "I don't like to say this, but if something happens to Severus, we can always fill her in on what she's meant to know. She'll be able to team up with us – and she'd be a link between the three of us and the Order. I think it'd be invaluable."

"Won't that interfere with the timeline?"

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair. "At this point," he said finally, "and I really, really _never_ thought I'd ever say this – but at this point, I just want to get this war over and done with. I've seen too much death and destruction to just sit back and let this disaster unfold. I'm a Time Lord – literally a Lord over time, and I'm the last one left. No one can tell me what to do now – _I_ make the laws. I have the means to control it – my TARDIS, my equipment, my knowledge of time, and I don't want to see it wasted anymore."

Donna stared at him, worry lining her face. "Are you sure? I've never heard you talk like that before – isn't it wrong?"

"I'm sure the time line will work out a way to fix itself if it is," the Doctor said dismissively. "I've seen it happen – Time Lords who have interfered only to have all of their work undone by those they tried to help. Well…I think acting in this case; actively _fighting_ to get rid of an evil, is better than sitting back and letting them all burn."

"I…alright, Doctor. If you're sure."

"I've never been more sure, Donna. I'm not just going to sit back and let _him_ win."

"Then let's go. Let's tell her about us," Donna said softly, standing up.

The Doctor stood up too and opened the door. Immediately, the conversation between the two old colleagues ground to a halt, Minerva staring at the Doctor and Donna with wide, disbelieving eyes.

She leapt to her feet immediately, her wand in her hand and a curse on her lips, faster than any of them could have predicted. But even as she moved, Severus was stepping between Minerva, the Doctor and Donna, his hands held out as if in surrender.

"Severus?"

"This is not as it seems, Minerva," Severus said, desperation beginning to line his voice as her face became angry and distrustful. "We can use Veritaserum-"

"Was this all a ruse? A laugh at my expense?"

"What possible reason could he have to do that?" The Doctor demanded. "He doesn't gain anything from it."

"Yeah," Donna added, to Minerva's apparent astonishment. "And yes, I can talk, thank you very much. It was an act – do you really think I'd let myself be employed by the real Barty Crouch?" She shuddered theatrically. "I'd rather stick my head in one of Filch's disgusting toilets!"

Minerva's mouth opened and closed in shock. "Severus," she demanded, "_what_ is going on here?"

"They are from another dimension."

Minerva simply stared at him in disbelief. "You aren't serious."

"Deadly."

"But – Severus, this makes no _sense_! How can they be – how did they – Albus?"

"It is quite true, Minerva," Dumbledore said softly. "He is not Barty Crouch Junior, but merely someone who resembles him. His real name," he added, speaking over Minerva's incredulous sputtering, "is the Doctor."

"The Doctor?"

"My real name isn't something I normally reveal to people."

Minerva straightened. "I see...Severus…I think we could use some Veritaserum. Do you have any here?"

Severus' lips twitched. "You know very well that I enjoy threatening misbehaving students with it."

"I never knew you used the real potion," she admitted, "but it is an effective technique, if rather…unorthodox."

Severus snorted, flicked his wand, and caught the potion that came whizzing in from the bedroom. He nodded for the Doctor and Donna to sit down and then fed them the required amount of potion. He and Minerva sat back and waited for it to take effect.

"It would be best if you ask the questions, Minerva."

"Very well. Crouch – what is your real name?"

The Doctor's mouth worked, his eyes fiercely fighting against the potion before Minerva rephrased.

"What name do you normally go by?"

"The Doctor."

"Why do you not want anyone to know your real name?"

"There are several reasons, all of them complicated to explain, but to me…they're very simple."

Minerva blinked at him. "I can see I'm going to get nowhere with that… Miss Noble, what is your real name?"

"Donna Noble."

"What is the Doctor's real name?"

"I don't know. He doesn't say."

"Never?"

"Never."

Minerva frowned. "Do you know if he has ever told anyone else?"

"No. He never tells them."

Minerva sighed. "Why are you here, Doctor?"

"The simple explanation," Severus added. Catching Minerva's look, he explained, "He often waffles about technicalities light years ahead of our comprehension. Answer the question, Doctor."

"There was an energy flux," the Doctor said tonelessly, "it interrupted the function of the Time Vortex and caught the TARDIS in its clutches. I tried to escape it but it was too strong. Donna and I were dragged here."

Minerva blinked. "What is the TARDIS?" She glanced at Severus and added, wryly, "the simply explanation, if you please."

"It's my time machine. It can travel through space and time simultaneously."

"If that is the case, why are you still here?"

"The TARDIS runs off energy from the Gallifrean Eye of Harmony, which provides a steady stream of artron energy. The source doesn't exist in this dimension and the walls of time have closed – the TARDIS cannot be powered from the source it usually uses. I'm still here because I'm waiting for it to be repowered."

"Are you loyal to Vol-" she caught Severus' glare, "You-Know-Who?"

"No."

"Have you ever been?"

"No."

"And you, Miss Noble, are you loyal to You-Know-Who?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"No," Donna replied, staring vacantly into space. "I hate him."

"Do you agree with the Doctor's explanation of how you came to be here?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what caused the energy surge? Either of you?"

"No," they both replied simultaneously.

Minerva looked at Severus. "I'm sorry, Severus, but I have to ask them another question or two."

Severus sighed, but nodded. "I understand."

"Did Severus kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied.

"Why?"

"He was ordered to."

"Do you trust Severus?"

"Yes," they both replied.

"Why?"

"Minerva-" Severus began, his eyes suddenly looking slightly wild, but he was interrupted by Donna.

"The Doctor does – I don't remember the books."

"He was in love with Lily Potter," the Doctor said simply. He did not see that Severus' face had become very white. "He wants to kill _him_ for killing her."

Minerva's eyes widened and she turned to stare at Severus. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Donna and the Doctor replied before Severus could even speak.

Severus nodded, looking defeated.

"Albus?"

"It is true, Minerva," Dumbledore affirmed. "I do not think that he ever truly believed in Tom's ideals. Lily Potter's death was merely the catalyst for what would eventually happen."

"I see," Minerva said, still looking at Severus as though she was seeing him in a new light. "Well…I think that those are all the questions that I needed to ask."

"Good," Severus drawled. "It was about to become personal."

"Severus, I truly am sorry, but I had to be absolutely certain that everyone held the same amount of trust, or the entire thing could easily fall apart."

Severus nodded. "I'm grateful," he said seriously. "From what the Doctor told me, our association could have ended very differently."

"Oh? How, exactly?"

"You try to kill me with flying knives and I jump out a window," Severus smirked, looking truly amused despite the circumstances. "Nothing unusual."

Minerva snorted. "I will be bringing that up later, of course. At the moment, however, I have enough information to process without worrying how he knows about that."

Severus nodded. "That would be wise."

"The Order could use your services, Severus, now that we know you are loyal to our cause."

Severus shook his head. "No – too many people know, as it is. I can, of course, pass you information, but it will be infrequent and anonymous. At least, as far as the rest of the Order is concerned."

"Very well."

"I must also ask that you keep everything that you have learned secret, Minerva. The consequences should the Dark Lord find out-"

"I know, Severus, and I shall tell nobody unless the situation demands it." At his confused look, she added, "I'm not going to let Mad-Eye Moody kill you just to save your cover."

Severus snorted. "That old coot would never believe a single word you could possibly say in my favour. You might as well try to talk sense into a Flobberworm."

Minerva smiled at him, her first, genuinely warm smile for weeks. "I have missed your sarcasm, Severus. It always was rather inventive."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement, lips twitching. Unseen in his frame, Dumbledore smiled radiantly, his blue eyes twinkling.


	16. Horcruxes

**A/N:** I thought I'd update a bit earlier this week, mainly because I've just finished writing the chapter, but also because I finally have enough free time to actually do it early for once :p So I hope you all enjoy this! This is where it starts to veer away from canon...well, more so than usual. I know that I've replied to reviews (if I haven't, feel free to poke me in indignation), but I'd also just like to say thanks to all the anonymous readers and those who have added this story to favourites or alerts. Just knowing that you guys have done that is really encouraging. :-)

**16. Horcruxes.**

Voldemort stalked around the assembled Death Eaters slowly, his blood red eyes glinting like a dying fire, promising unimaginable pain to whoever crossed him. His body was stiff and wooden, as though it was already taking all of his self control not to kill everyone in the room. The Doctor watched his progress around the room with a sense of apprehension, his only wish being to flee as soon as he could.

And preferably come back with his TARDIS in full battle mode.

But as it was, he was stuck here grovelling like Bellatrix Lestrange, who was visibly itching to go to her Lord's side. But it was obvious that not even Bellatrix could comfort Voldemort now; his snake, Nagini, had just been killed.

The Death Eaters had all accompanied their master to Godric's Hollow, where they had been told they would finally see the death of Harry Potter once and for all. "This time," Voldemort had said in typical villain fashion, "there will be no escape." And yet Harry had managed to escape before Voldemort or his Death Eaters could even get to the scene.

Behind them, they had left the mangled and burned body of Nagini, whom Voldemort had had to dig out of the rubble of a collapsed house. Needless to say, the Lord of Darkness had not been ecstatic after that.

Without warning, the object of the Doctor's thoughts spun around and fixed the Death Eaters with his most menacing glare. "A loyal servant was slaughtered tonight," he said, his voice high and cold, filled with barely suppressed rage. "A strong creature," he indicated Nagini with a jerky movement of his hand, "has just been murdered in an unprovoked and unjustifiable attack, and must be avenged."

The Doctor stared at him in disbelief, unable to believe his ears.

Voldemort immediately pounced on this. "It is unbelievable indeed, Bartemus, I quite agree. You can see then, all of you, why the culprit – Harry Potter – must be punished!"

The Doctor continued to stare. It was only a sharp elbow in the ribs from Severus that finally jarred him into nodding in agreement, muttering meaningless insults under his breath.

"Whoever finds him and brings him to me…" Voldemort fingered his wand in plain sight, golden sparks shooting from its end, "shall be rewarded beyond their most fantastical dreams."

The Death Eaters cheered, falling to their knees in the filthy road chosen for their meeting. It didn't matter how much noise they made, the Doctor knew with a large jolt of hate, because all occupants had been either murdered or chased from the scene long ago.

Bellatrix crawled closer to Voldemort, her movements eager and self assured. "My Lord, you are most generous! Allow me to go and search for the boy now! I could have him by your feet, screaming for his dead mother, by midnight-"

The Doctor laughed, the sound harsh. "My Lord, don't listen to her insane waffle; she has no idea what she's doing." He stepped closer when Voldemort raised an amused eyebrow. He was now standing right next to Bellatrix. "_I_, my Lord, have more advanced facilities and brain power at my disposal-"

"Brain power?" Bellatrix predictably screeched. "You work at a _school_, Bartemus! You might as well be babysitting snotty little Mudbloods!"

"I'm influencing the future recruits for our Lord," the Doctor corrected. "That requires responsibility, intelligence, and finesse…something that you would never understand."

Bellatrix fumed and rose to her feet, completely forgetting her grovelling to Voldemort in her anger, and took out her wand. The Doctor found himself going cross eyed just to keep the wand in sight.

"You're all talk," Bellatrix sneered. "I used to think that you were the most bloodthirsty of us all but working in that school must have made you soft. You're a coward, Bartemus, and you try and hide it by insulting our Lord's _good_ servants!"

"If you were a good servant," the Doctor said nastily, "that would be true. But, I'm telling the truth."

Bellatrix's face began to shake and quiver as though it was wax being heated above a flame. "Not a good servant?" she demanded, her voice as unsteady as her grip on reality. "You don't know what you're talking about, coward!"

Deciding to take a leaf from Severus' book, the Doctor pretended to become enraged, all the while keeping a calculating eye on his opponent's wand. "Don't," he snarled, withdrawing his own wand, "call me a coward!"

Bellatrix laughed then. "Oh? Does that _hurt_ you, my dear little professor?"

"Why would you think that?" the Doctor hissed. "Are your hallucinations becoming more out of hand, Bellatrix? I must say I'm surprised – I thought you had another week of sanity left at least-"

"_Crucio_!"

The Doctor was felled instantly, his wand falling from his grasp. Dimly, he could hear the chanting and surprised whoops of his 'fellow' Death Eaters as they gathered more closely around him, enthralled by the duel.

A gradually increasing roaring sound drowned all of that out before he could truly process it, however, and he found himself writhing on the ground, more helpless than he had ever been in his life. His bones were melting; his lungs were drawing in large, rusty needles that were gradually stealing his oxygen supply. He could feel his scalp crawling with a thousand white-hot footed ants. His brain was being squeezed from left to right, trying to melt out of his ears.

And his nose, which had been right in front of Bellatrix's wand, was gradually burning itself to ash, the remains liquefying in the most painful way imaginable.

Desperation began to claw its way up from the pit of the Doctor's stomach until it seemed to engulf every part of him, its tingling, white hot energy demanding that he release it soon, before it added to his torment.

With difficulty, the Doctor managed to pry his eyes open. Bellatrix was standing directly above him, her wand still pointed into his face, a vicious smile slashing her features in half. The Doctor suddenly felt a rush of immense hatred pulsating behind his forehead – an intense and unmitigated loathing that had nothing to do with what was happening to him now, but everything to do with the countless innocents he had seen the woman murder in a similar way, all in the name of one man's victory.

The white hot energy of desperation hit Bellatrix full in the face, knocking her off her feet and sending her careering into the now rapidly parting crowd. As her body slammed into the ground with a sickening _crack_, the spell was lifted and the Doctor found himself able to move once more, his breath heaving in his abused lungs.

A tall, thin figure dressed in black from head to foot crouched next to him and placed its arms around him, helping to heave him into a sitting position. "You must not show weakness here," the figure whispered, audible only to the Doctor's ears. "You know that. Now put it into practice!"

The Doctor coughed out a laugh as he recognised Severus' urgent voice. "Or they'll tear me apart."

Groaning, he levered himself to his feet with Severus' help and made his shaky way over to Bellatrix. Voldemort was crouching over her, waving his wand over her head even as several bulky figures kept her body from convulsing.

"What did I do to her?"

"I haven't a clue," Severus muttered, "but it was well executed. Perhaps quite literally."

There was a short scream as Bellatrix's body shot upright into a sitting position, and the Doctor almost stepped back several paces. Her face looked like it had been hit by a Bludger; her features were bruised and broken, almost unrecognisable, her eyes stared around her wildly, her mouth hanging open as she struggled for breath.

Voldemort waved his wand once more and her mouth shut, her body relaxed as it found the oxygen it needed, and she slumped into the man who had fixed her. Voldemort patted her hair as one would pet an animal even as his red eyes rose and fixed upon the Doctor.

Oh… _Merlin_.

"Bartemus," the cold, high voice stated, "you almost killed one of my best servants."

The Doctor forced himself to laugh. "Surely not, my Lord? Her head is so thick that anything bounces off-"

"She suffered intense head trauma," Voldemort interrupted flatly. "This," he continued, gesturing the wreck of a woman still clinging to him, "is how she looks after I have performed the most powerful healing spells I know."

Which probably wasn't a good thing.

"I – my Lord, I didn't know – I didn't think-"

"No, Bartemus. You never think when someone calls you a coward. You could almost be a Gryffindor."

The assembled Death Eaters jeered raucously, several thumping the Doctor on the back.

"_Silence_!" Voldemort shouted, lowering Bellatrix to the ground and staring malevolently at the Doctor. "I had intended for this… petty argument to end with a reward for you both, but I can see that I overestimated your restraint, Bartemus."

The Doctor dropped to the ground immediately, pressing his forehead to the pavement edge. "My Lord, I apologise. Allow me to help her-"

"She shall heal eventually," Voldemort said dismissively. "I have already begun the slow process for her. You, however, may not be so lucky."

"My Lord! Please! You – you can't lose two servants in one night, my Lord, with Potter still on the run – I can help you! Please! Just…don't…don't-"

Voldemort laughed, the sound foreign and wheezing. "So she was right, Bartemus; you really have gone soft."

"_Soft_, my Lord? No! I could never – I can't be soft, my Lord! I do the best that I can for you – I must be strong for that, and successful! I – I _will_ be successful, my Lord, if you let me-"

"Let you go without punishment? No, I don't think so. However…" Voldemort got to his feet and fingered his wand, holding it almost nonchalantly, "despite your reprehensible actions of this evening, I do believe you are correct."

"My Lord, please – I… I am?"

Voldemort smirked. "I cannot lose a second servant so soon after forfeiting the other. You shall be punished, Bartemus, but the second half of your punishment shall occur after Bellatrix's recovery."

The Doctor gasped in very real relief. "Thank you, my Lord! Thank you – you are most generous! I know of no other so willing to spare – no other so merciful!" He crawled forward and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "You shall not regret this, my Lord!"

"See to it that I do not. _Crucio_!"

This time, the torment seemed to last for an eternity, twisting, pulsing and biting into him without end. He was just contemplating tearing his hair out from the effort of not biting through his tongue, when he was suddenly and unexpectedly released.

Voldemort's high voice sounded further away than usual. "Remember that experience, Bartemus. Your next punishment shall be a repeat of it – I do not want you unprepared."

The Doctor's head seemed to vibrate alongside the chuckles from the crowd.

"Yes, my Lord," he whispered.

"Severus, help Bartemus and give Bellatrix one of your many potions. I want her coherent and on her feet."

"Yes, my Lord."

The Doctor felt himself being hauled upright for the second time that evening, the world tilting dizzily around him. He felt Severus steady him carefully, making sure he could stand unassisted, before he walked away to deal with Bellatrix.

Once Bellatrix was on her feet, swaying unsteadily and glaring daggers at the Doctor, Voldemort began to speak.

"You have been a most loyal and effective servant, Bellatrix, and such services cannot go unrewarded." He lifted a pale finger and Pettigrew came scurrying forwards, a small package in his hands. "Come here, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix tottered forward eagerly, the Doctor forgotten. Stunned, she opened the package and fingered the object inside. "A goblet, my Lord?"

"It is much more than that, my servant. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff has kept within it a…special part of me, ever since the death of my dirty father. It is a symbol of the triumphs of powerful wizards over Muggles."

The Doctor fought to keep his face impassive at this news. Voldemort was giving Bellatrix a Horcrux!

"I am honoured, my Lord. Thank you." Bellatrix bowed unsteadily. "It's lovely."

Voldemort nodded, looking pleased. "Good. Treasure it, my servant. Keep it somewhere safe."

"If I may, my Lord, I shall do so now."

"Very well."

With one last bow, Bellatrix turned and walked into the night. A faint _crack_ sounded, signalling that she had disapparated.

"Bartemus, Severus. Come here."

The Doctor and Severus exchanged brief, confused looks before they obediently came to a bowed halt at Voldemort's feet.

"You are my most successful leaders, having completed a number of raids according to my every command without deviation. Unlike the vast majority of those assembled here," he pointedly looked around, "you do not become distracted with your own petty agendas. You remain focussed. For that, you shall both be rewarded."

"Thank you, my Lord," they replied together.

"The sword of Gryffindor," Voldemort pronounced, much to the Doctor's shock.

"My…my Lord?" Severus asked after a moment of confused silence. "The sword is at Hogwarts, surely you-"

"I am not mistaken, Severus. The sword at Hogwarts is a fake; Dumbledore left it there as a decoy, I believe. I discovered the true sword after his death and had a goblin test it for me. The old fool's protection charms were becoming weak; I broke through them quite easily."

The Doctor blinked, completely stunned. _Voldemort_ had the sword that killed horcruxes and was giving it them? He almost wanted to laugh at the irony.

"I wish you to place the fake sword in Gringotts. Pretend that you fear for its safety after the students tried to steal it."

"My Lord – that was weeks ago," Severus pointed out.

"You are an accomplished spy, Severus. Surely you can make it believable."

Severus nodded. "I shall stage another attempt to steal the sword."

"Very good," Voldemort approved. "Once the fake is in Gringotts, I want you to place the real sword inside a room that meets your every requirement for security."

"My Lord? The room is not completely foolproof-"

"I have known objects to remain hidden there for decades, Severus, ever since I was a student myself. Do not doubt me."

"I apologise, my Lord."

"I see that I have finally managed to silence Bartemus," Voldemort suddenly noted, glancing at the Doctor in amusement.

The Doctor cleared his throat, ignoring the shoot of pain that ignited. "I… the sword of Gryffindor – I never expected – I never knew… thank you, my Lord! I am…very honoured."

Voldemort chuckled. "You may both leave. I have other topics that I wish to discuss with my less successful servants."

The Doctor and Severus nodded, instantly getting up to leave. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you." Voldemort smirked, amused at their habit of speaking at the same time, but as soon as they were out of range, he started prowling around the group once more.

Judging by the man's movements and facial expression, the Doctor mused, the rest of the Death Eaters were in for a very painful night following their failures.

One short apparition later, the Doctor and Severus were walking up to Hogwarts in silence, still stunned by the night's events. Finally, Severus made a slashing motion with his wand and turned to face the Doctor, who obediently stopped walking.

"The cup is a Horcrux. I am almost certain."

The Doctor nodded. "Got it in one."

The other man ran a finger along his jaw thoughtfully. "Our next order of business, then, is to break into Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts."

"You don't know that she's kept it there," the Doctor reasoned.

"She jealously guards every object that the Dark Lord gives her. Gringotts is the safest place, Doctor. I know that it is there."

"I don't think you're meant to rob the bank."

Severus' eyebrow rose. "Of course not. What I am _meant_ to do," he drawled, "is open the vault up legitimately, but that is rather impossible and tiresome at this stage."

"_No_, I didn't mean that – of course it has to be broken into! What are you going to do, ask her to give it to you out of the goodness of her heart? No. What I meant was that _you_ aren't meant to do it, Severus. In the books-"

"_We are not in a book_," Severus snapped suddenly. "I thought you had realised that."

"I have!" the Doctor argued. "If I were going completely by what I knew about books and non-interference, I wouldn't be telling you this! I wouldn't be doing anything – I'd just let it happen, but you know that's not good enough, don't you? I can't just sit back and let it all fall down around us, and I'm telling you, if you go into that bank alone-"

"This is a different dimension. How can you possibly know everything?"

"I don't!" The Doctor replied, infuriated. "That's the point – I don't know what'll happen! I'm just…_ making it up as I go along_, and I know from experience – believe me, I know – that sometimes that can lead to disaster! I'm willing to change things about this universe, but only when _I'm_ the one directly at risk. Don't you see? I can regenerate, I can survive whatever will happen to me, but you can't. And I'm telling you now, before you go haring off on a wild, Gryffindor scheme, that if you go into that bank vault and you're not meant to – if you act upon a variable that I have unintentionally changed by being here, and your dimension doesn't like it, you could be in serious trouble!"

"Interesting."

The Doctor stared at him. "'Interesting'? Is that it? I just spouted a long spiel about Fate, the universe and alternate dimensions, and all you have is '_interesting_'?"

"You care what happens to me."

"I – well, _yes_, of course I do, but what has this got to do with anything?"

"You always talk like a soldier, Doctor. You speak about sacrifice, fighting and death, but it in your mind it only applies to you."

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Yet they always seem to."

"I should never have let you in my mind!"

"Because I now know you too well?" Severus demanded. "By that logic, I should never have _let_ you read the books."

The Doctor smiled at that, despite everything.

"I do not mean to sound cliché," Severus added, "but in this case 'whatever will be will be' and we must deal with the consequences. This is battle and I am a spy; I am destined to die before the last fight is over-"

"You can't know that! Anything could happen!"

"Spies rarely have a long life expectancy, Doctor, and I would be foolish to expect otherwise. If I must die before the end of this war, I want to die doing something useful, rather than waiting around aimlessly for a bogeyman that will find me eventually."

"I can't let you do this! Let me go instead – I'm a Time _Lord_, I'll be able to get in and out easily, and if I die I could just regenerate!"

"And what happens if whoever captures you simply kills all reincarnations?" Severus demanded. "You would be forced to live through a fate worse than death. At least my end would be final, more merciful. I am going to rob the vault, Doctor, whether you like it or not."

The Doctor's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "No."

"You can't stop me. You might be Lord over time, but your machine is still out of action. You now have as much power as I do to control time."

With that, Severus reached into his cloak and withdrew a bottle. "This is for the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Use it wisely and come to me if you need anymore."

Before the Doctor could even reply, Severus had whirled around and began to stalk up the hill towards the castle, never looking back. The Doctor sighed and made his slow way after him, the pain now a dull throb beside his thoughts.

Why did he always get the stubborn ones?


	17. More Allies and Forbidden Plans

**17. More Allies and Forbidden Plans.**

The room was filled with a rowdy crowd, conversations being held in an almost unbearably loud volume. People were dancing wildly to no particular tune. Death Eaters of limited talent had decided to bring various instruments to the Christmas celebration, even though many of them were almost falling to pieces and nobody seemed able to play them. The result was a painful cacophony of noise that caused the Doctor to fight off a wince.

Decorations adorned the room; they had decided to gatecrash a Muggle fancy dress Christmas party in groups, making it a game as to how long it would take the Muggles to notice that something was happening. Once the questions had begun, the entire Muggle party had been slaughtered mercilessly; their bodies lay piled around the edges of the dance floor, lit up eerily by the disco ball in the centre.

The Muggle stereo system that had been used until their arrival lay smashed and smoking in the corner as a sign of the Death Eaters' contempt for Muggle tradition. The Doctor almost wished they had it back, even if it meant a crowd of Death Eaters listening to S-Club 7.

Not amused by even that ridiculous image, the Doctor stared at the bodies on the ground and the glowing jars sitting next to them. Their life force. Artron Energy.

The Doctor sighed and began to fiddle with his mask before finally ripping it off his face and shrinking it, putting it in a robe pocket. He wouldn't need it here. So many people dead, and many more to come.

He grabbed a shot of Tequila from the bar at the edge of the room and laughed at a couple of tasteless jokes, playing the part of faithful Death Eater. He leaned against the bar and pretended to drink the shot; instead, he vanished the contents before it got anywhere near his mouth. There, now he looked as though he was having fun.

He was just debating whether or not he should do everyone's eardrums a favour and knock out the 'band' and play it all by himself, when Severus walked up to him.

Or, rather, staggered. "Barty!"

The Doctor stared in disbelief at the man he knew never to touch a drop of alcohol. "Severus. Drunk already, I see. How typical. I would do the same, but unlike some, I can hold my liquor."

"S'excellent party, Barty!"

A chuckle sounded from behind Severus and a female voice announced, "That rhymes!"

The Doctor's mouth fell open before he remembered himself and closed it again. "Bellatrix? Your face is finally healing, I see, although there isn't much improvement on your usual image."

The woman in question growled, tottered forward and almost fell over, knocking into Severus as she did so. Severus staggered, one hand holding a bottle as though it was a child and the other flailing about uselessly for something to hold onto. The Doctor moved to help him, but before he could so much as touch the man, he was on the floor. And laughing.

"Belly!"

Bellatrix began to laugh at that, forgetting the Doctor and clutching her sides as though to keep them from splitting. "M'name's not _Belly_, Sev'rus!"

"Why?" Severus whined, much to the Doctor's amazement. "S'a good name! Sounds jus' like belly!"

The Doctor blinked. "It's the same word, Severus."

"S'not."

"Is," Bellatrix added, cackling.

"S'not."

The Doctor decided that, at this point, he _really_ didn't need to add anything. The conversation was mad enough as it was, and pointing out that they were acting like children would surely make them go on a different, wholly embarrassing tangent.

Severus was struggling to regain his feet now, walking his hands along the floor as though he was trying to climb up a cliff face. Bellatrix was now laughing so hard that she was almost choking on her own drink.

Seeing other people glancing in their direction with knowing smiles, the Doctor gave in and started laughing, making no move to help his fellow professor up from the floor. "I think I need another drink," he announced to anyone who was listening.

Fetching himself another Tequila, he watched from the bar in interest as he pretended to drain it. Severus was still struggling to his feet, now with Bellatrix's reluctant help. The surrounding crowd was now taking no notice of either of them, being too wrapped up in having fun. Or at least, what passed for fun at these events.

The Doctor walked back towards them, pretending to be feeling the first effects of alcohol.

Severus, now on his feet, grinned widely at him. "Barty! Haven't seen ya'in a while!"

"I went to get a drink." He checked his watch. "What time does the real entertainment start?"

"Countdown's soon," Severus announced. "Countdown to Boxin' Day," he explained as though he was going off on a tangent, though the Doctor was grateful. "Bes' part, killin' Mudbloods every hour!"

Bellatrix sneered. "You're useless, idiot! Too drunk t'hit any!"

And there it was. The explanation, just like the Doctor wanted. He looked into Severus' eyes and found them staring right back at him, completely lucid, until they drifted back to Bellatrix.

"Your hair's really bouncy," he announced, poking his finger into it again and again until Bellatrix got angry and shoved him in the chest.

"Don' touch my hair, Sev'rus!"

Severus looked wounded. "But I like it!"

Bellatrix sneered at him. "I tol' you – no extras!"

The Doctor coughed hurriedly to hide a laugh. And that was the second explanation he wanted.

"Fine!" Severus retorted. "I'm goin' get a drink." With that, he attempted to swivel on his heel as he normally did, but got tangled in his own robes and ended up falling spectacularly onto his face.

Bellatrix laughed as a crunch filled the air. "Can' be worse than your ol' nose, Sev'rus!" She tottered off, still laughing, not sparing a second thought to the man lying on the floor behind her.

"At least show some decorum, Severus," the Doctor said, unable to resist. Severus glared at him as he rolled over, clutching his bleeding nose. "Here, let me-"

Severus jerked his head away. "I do' beed your help!"

"Alright, have it your way."

"'nubber dring?" Severus asked, waving his empty bottle in the air as though he was trying to summon the Night Bus.

The Doctor laughed, feeling hollow inside, and grabbed the bottle obediently. As he walked behind the bar and grabbed another two drinks, he sighed. This was going to be a long night. He didn't notice Severus glance at something in his palm before hurriedly stuffing it into his robe pocket.

oOo

True to his predictions, the night seemed to last for several years, both the Doctor and Severus pretending to get more and more drunk in order to blend in with the rest of the crowd. Then came the moment that the Doctor had been dreading; the Countdown.

As the Church bell rang for the last time, the Doctor lowered his wand, pretending to be annoyed that he had been too drunk to actually hit a single Muggle. Across from him, he saw Severus stare down at the body of a young woman he had tried to miss, his face frozen and unreadable.

Severus turned and pretended to stagger away, wand held aloft in apparent victory. Bellatrix cackled at him, crowing something triumphant and indecipherably slurred about Severus finally coming out of his shell. Nearby, Lucius Malfoy watched over the scene, still as a statue, a small, clearly fake smile plastered over his face. The Doctor glanced around, wondering if anyone else could see it, but realised that nobody was sober enough to remember in any case. Coming to the conclusion that he had imagined it, he moved to walk past the blond man, when he noticed that Lucius was not even holding a wand.

But that could mean anything. He could have become bored after the first few rounds. He could be one of the more 'dignified' Death Eaters, like Severus was mainly reputed to be. Or… he could have done that deliberately.

Lucius glanced up and noticed the Doctor. Thinking fast, the Doctor tripped and fell to the floor. He heard Lucius snort at him and move over to help him up reluctantly, his feet barely making a sound on the rubbled ground. His head lolling drunkenly against the road, the Doctor allowed his eyes to roam the area in the short amount of time he had.

No bodies around Lucius. He had either killed from a distance, or he had not killed at all. Somehow, it was hard to picture the austere man running after a Muggle, hair flying, shooting spells at them again and again.

Then again… he obviously had at some point.

Before he could dwell on this anymore, a steel grip was yanking him roughly to his feet, and he found himself face to face with Lucius. "Bit too much to drink?"

The Doctor swallowed and pretended to struggle to focus. "Huh?"

Lucius' eyes narrowed the more he looked into the Doctor's eyes. The Doctor cursed to himself. He could probably tell that he wasn't drunk; the man wasn't exactly incoherent himself, either.

The Doctor licked his lips and prepared to slur as if his life depended on it. Which, he reflected, it did. "Where's 'ev?"

"Off celebrating. That last victim of his was a rather good shot. Even Bellatrix is impressed."

"Righ'. 'M goin'."

He moved to leave, but Lucius' hand was still clamped around his arm. Taking a quick glance around, he paused for a moment before speaking. Only when he was sure there was no one in earshot did he speak, and even then only at a whisper.

"You are not drunk."

The Doctor laughed raucously. "Naaah. C'n still 'ave few more. Buy m'won?"

Lucius' grip increased. "Why are you acting?"

"Actin'?"

"Do not be obtuse. Your pupils look normal, even if you do sway and slur convincingly."

Deciding that it was better to drop the act entirely, the Doctor stared back at Lucius defiantly. "And why are you not drunk, Lucius?"

That seemed to throw the man off-guard. "I have a meeting with some very influential wizards in the morning."

"That's a lie and you know it. Why not just take a Sobering Potion?" the Doctor demanded, feeling slightly triumphant at turning the conversation around. "Why lie to me?"

"And why are _you_ lying to _me_?"

The Doctor resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair only by sheer willpower. "This is going nowhere, Lucius. Just tell me what you're up to."

Lucius remained silent.

The Doctor leaned in closer, his breath blowing into Lucius' face in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "Why didn't you kill any Mudbloods?"

Lucius' eyes widened. "I did," he sneered quickly – too quickly. "I am just more adept at ridding myself of their disgusting dead bodies."

The Doctor peered at him. "You didn't want to kill them, did you? Don't object – it's obvious you're not enjoying yourself as much as you should. You're sober and you haven't killed a single piece of bait. What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Ah, deflection. I believe I invented that, Lucius. _I_ am sober so that I can ferret out any spies. It's the perfect time for it, don't you think? Everyone's drunk, having fun; no one would be paying attention to one man, suspicious or not."

"I am not a spy."

"You aren't loyal."

Lucius' eyes instantly became dangerous and the Doctor felt a wand pointed at his chest. "I could just say that you got in my way, Bartemus, while I was trying to kill Mudbloods. You're drunk, you can barely walk. No one would question it."

"One would."

"Who?"

"I'm not telling you."

The wand pressed harder. "Do you really think I am that stupid?" Lucius demanded. "There is no one who would. No one will miss you when you're gone."

The Doctor smirked and flicked his wand. Lucius jumped when he saw the Patronus go galloping around the corner and out of sight. "You should really disarm me first, Lucius. It makes me think your heart isn't in it."

Lucius snarled at him. "There is no one to receive it."

"Are you willing to take that chance?"

The wand pressed tighter into the Doctor's chest. "Perhaps I should simply kill you and whoever follows your Patronus."

"So you believe there is someone to find it?" the Doctor asked, feigning surprise. "Well, now, that's a bit illogical. Just a minute ago you were claiming no one would care if my corpse were rotting and being feasted upon by worms – but I suppose you must be right this time. It's only a process of elimination, after all."

Before Lucius could reply, the Doctor plunged on.

"But I can't help wondering, Lucius – or Luke, can I call you Luke?"

Lucius stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "No."

"Fair enough. But I can't help wondering how long this has been going on."

"What?"

"I've noticed you looking a bit haggard, recently. That day at the Grangers' – you weren't exactly regal glory then, and you're worse now. You look like a beggar, Lucius. You haven't even shaved. What's been going on, hmm?"

"Nothing."

"_Oh_, come on, don't give me that. What is it, have you lost all your money? Have you forgotten how to shave – maybe you just don't see the point anymore? Got a bit of a death wish?"

"I said there was nothing," Lucius all but growled.

"Oh, no, silly me. Of course there's '_nothing_' – this is just a fashion statement, am I right? You're a few centuries out, mind you, and I can't see it catching on very fast, but I suppose there's still hope."

"Bartemus?" A dark figure came running around the corner at full speed, coming to an abrupt halt when it saw them. With a wave of relief, the Doctor saw Severus' (now fixed) hooked nose peeking out of the surrounding darkness. "Lucius. What are you doing?"

"Interesting. You are not drunk either, Severus, yet for all intents and purposes you seemed beyond help earlier."

"And you are not exactly ecstatic with the holiday season either, Lucius."

"He's not a true Death Eater," the Doctor announced. "_Ow_! Look, if you're going to use your wand, at least actually produce a spell rather than _jabbing_ me with it!"

"Let Bartemus stand aside, Lucius."

"No."

Severus pointed his wand at Lucius. "Perhaps I wasn't quite polite enough for your tastes. Let him stand aside _please_."

Reluctantly, Lucius let the Doctor go and the Doctor immediately backed away until he was level with Severus, his wand also trained on the other Death Eater.

"He didn't kill anyone, Severus."

Severus nodded. "I see. The Dark Lord will be most pleased to hear this. He has been wondering about the identity of the spy for a very long time."

The Doctor glanced at Severus, surprised. "We aren't going to take him somewhere and interrogate him first?"

"I hardly believe that to be necessary. Now, Lucius, you shall do as we say if you do not want your secret to be exposed."

Lucius stared. "You are not going to kill me?"

Severus sneered maliciously. "No. You see, I am an envious man, Lucius, and at this moment in time, I am envious of Bellatrix's honour bestowed upon her by the Dark Lord."

"You want me to steal the cup."

Severus' malicious smirk widened. "No, Lucius. It is not that easy. If I let you go on this mission alone, you shall disappear with it forever. I know you."

"Come with me, then, and get killed trying to break in."

"Thank you," Severus drawled, "for that excellent suggestion, Lucius."

"Won't it look suspicious?" the Doctor demanded, inwardly angry that Severus was planning on carrying through with this anyway.

"Bellatrix always takes an escort to Gringotts," Severus replied. "She is rather proud of her wealth and enjoys boasting about it. As you would of course know, Lucius, having been dragged there many times by the woman in question for that very purpose."

Lucius simply nodded jerkily.

"You shall accompany me to Gringotts, Lucius, if you wish to keep your life. And do not flee. I know how to find you." He flexed his left arm. "Now go, Lucius. I don't want traitors like you using up my time when I could happily use it for a task much less obscene."

"You will regret this, Severus."

Lucius turned on the spot and disapparated with an angry 'pop', leaving the Doctor free to round on Severus. "What did you just do?"

"Exactly what you think I just did," Severus replied wryly. "I do not trust Lucius, and no amount of interrogation will give us the information we need. The man's mind is like a blank, unimpressive canvas. No…I intend to test him instead. And he knows where Bellaxtrix's vault is. We may as well gain as much as possible for ourselves in the process."

"Truly Slytherin," the Doctor muttered.

"Naturally."


	18. Gringotts

**.**

Severus glanced at himself in a shop window as he walked past brusquely, noting his changed appearance. He was, for all intents and purposes, a tall, dark haired woman dressed entirely in black, a permanently cruel expression on her face. He grimaced as he walked, wondering how the woman he was impersonating could possibly walk around in heels this high for hours on end.

Then again, he had seen her take them off and throw them at her victims. He had to admit that, tasteless though they were, they provided a convincing incentive for the victims to obey her. No one wants to be stabbed with a stiletto twice.

People scattered before him as he walked, but he barely even noticed. He was quite used to this, after all, having been the least favourite professor at Hogwarts for longer than Bellatrix had even been free. What he wasn't used to, however, was people nodding and smiling toothily at him as he walked past. Usually the most he received was a slight softening of an already neutral expression.

It was most perturbing.

Brushing those thoughts from his mind with the practiced ease of an accomplished Occlumens, Severus focused on his destination. He could see the opening to Gringotts bank now, surrounded by ominous looking witches and wizards. Occasionally, someone would be forcibly escorted away from the bank, protesting loudly or simply looking downtrodden.

Security had increased supposedly due to the Ministry's concern at providing the Death Eaters stolen funds, however unintentionally, but Severus knew that this was merely a façade. A very see through one, at that. Anyone who had not been living under a rock would already know that the Ministry was inundated with Death Eaters to the point that the Aurors were almost outnumbered. The country was gradually going to the dogs. Everybody knew it, but nobody could do a single thing about it unless they faced the Dark Lord personally and killed him. Only then would his minions fall into disarray.

Pity it seemed almost impossible.

Spotting a blonde head amongst the crowd, Severus made his way over to Lucius, somehow managing not to trip in the impossibly high heels.

"Lucius," he said in Bellatrix's cruel voice. "How nice of you to show up."

Lucius whipped around to stare at him, confused for a moment until he gave Severus a once over. "Good, but you're standing with your legs a fraction too far apart."

Scowling, Severus adjusted his position to become one slightly more ladylike. "And what business is that of yours, Lucius? We're here for a reason, unless you've forgotten."

"I do remember, of course," Lucius said with a gracious bow of his head. If it wasn't for the slight tension in his jaw and the fact that the blonde's hair was still dishevelled, Severus would never have known that the man was under stress.

"Good. About time you did something useful. I always wondered why 'Cissy married you."

Lucius looked as though he was about to growl. "Don't push it, _Bellatrix_."

Severus smirked at him and pushed past the crowd. "Move," he demanded, when one wizard refused to be fazed by Severus' sharp elbows.

The man sighed, clearly annoyed. "Look, I need to go to the bank just as much as you do!" he turned around, finger in the air, clearly intending to poke it in Severus' face, when all blood fell from his face and his hand began to shake. "Er… then again, you do look quite… rushed."

Severus rolled his eyes at the man. "Mudblood, are you?"

"No! I'm a Pureblood!"

Severus narrowed his eyes, implying that he did not believe a word the man was saying. "Of course you are. How else could you be so stupid? Now get out of my way, before I move you myself."

The man practically leapt aside as Severus mustered his nastiest glare, momentarily forgetting that the effect was heightened by the insanity in Bellatrix's eyes. He pushed his way to the front – somewhere along the journey he accidentally trod on someone's foot – and emerged before what seemed to be the head guard, a man from the Ministry that Severus did not recognise.

"Miss Lestrange," the man said politely, nodding at her. Severus gave a haughty nod. "Mister Malfoy."

"Mister Snoddengrass."

"I'm going to have to check you for any undesirable objects, Miss. It will only take a moment."

Severus sneered. "That's not necessary. I'm a trusted member of society, as you well know."

"I don't doubt that," the man replied, smiling, "but it's standard procedure. The boss could have my head if he finds out I haven't done my job."

"And he won't find out, if nothing goes wrong, will he?" Severus demanded.

The man laughed. "I know it's unlikely, Miss Lestrange, but rules are rules."

"Make it quick, then, if you absolutely must. I'm in a hurry."

"And I must do the same for you, sir, if that's alright," the guard added, turning to Lucius.

Lucius inclined his head regally. "Of course. I know enough of the Ministry to understand that it is unavoidable."

Severus forced himself to stand still while the guard waved his wand all over Severus' body, muttering under his breath as he cast different spells. When he seemed satisfied with the results, he moved on to Lucius, who looked completely unconcerned by the entire procedure.

"Well?" Severus demanded once the man had finished.

"You may both enter the bank. On behalf of the staff at Gringotts, I apologise for the inconvenience."

Severus opened his mouth to make an angry and insulting retort, but Lucius interrupted him. "It is no problem, Snoddengrass."

Taking the cue from Lucius, Severus nodded stiffly and ducked through the bank's doorway, not even waiting for Lucius before he began to walk toward the very last goblin, staring haughtily at anyone who met his eye. He kept his stride confident and self assured, making sure that Lucius had to trail along behind him like a common House Elf.

"Your business at Gringotts?" the goblin demanded when Severus stopped in front of his desk.

"I want to withdraw some money from my vault."

"Identification?"

Severus drew himself up to his full height, glaring at the goblin. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No identification, no money."

"This is an outrage! I'll have you know that I'm a respected citizen – I'm loyal!"

"Standard procedure," the goblin droned, dismissing Severus with barely the batting of an eyelash.

Severus elbowed Lucius, who sneered briefly at him before placing something in the folds of Severus' robes.

"My wand," Severus announced, taking the object and putting it on the desk with an annoyed 'smack'. He just had to hope that Lucius had given him the right one, as they had planned.

The goblin snatched the wand up and glanced at it with a practiced eye before handing it back without a word. "Identification, Mister Malfoy?"

Lucius handed over his wand without any hesitation.

After giving Lucius his wand back, the goblin stood reluctantly. "Follow me."

They obediently followed the goblin through the large hallways and impressive corridors of the bank, glaring at anyone they met on their way. Soon, they were passing into a room filled with what would have looked like, if Severus hadn't known better, muggle rollercoaster carts. Just looking at them, he felt himself momentarily transported into another lifetime, where he had heard of the fair, but never had a chance to ride on anything. Once, he had seen a cart like this one, when he had entered adulthood and the fair near Spinner's End had long since closed after lack of income.

He was fighting for this, he reminded himself. He suppressed an amused snort. He was fighting for muggles to have the right to ride on death traps that they should avoid as if their lives depended upon it.

The goblin hopped into the cart, and Severus half wondered if he could convince one of the Gringotts' staff to work on a muggle fair, just for one day. Severus clambered in with difficulty, forgetting for an instant that he was in stilettos and a skirt. Lucius, sitting beside him with ever present dignity, smirked.

Severus glared at him, but said nothing. He was sure that the man would double cross him once they got to the vault in any case. He might as well obliviate him of everything.

The carriage jerked forwards, moving deceptively slowly in the dark tunnel, the goblin sitting completely unconcerned. Not for the first time, Severus wondered how many times the goblins had to ride these things, and if they even enjoyed it.

Suddenly, the carriage dipped and the two human passengers were thrown forwards, forced to catch themselves before they banged their heads on the outside of the cart. Sitting back with a forced grin on his face, Severus glanced at Lucius, noting the white, clenched knuckles and slightly sweaty brow.

"Scared, Lucius?"

"I could say the same for you, Bellatrix."

Another dip, and Severus shrieked in fake delight, then laughed at Lucius' increasingly green pallor. "You're too posh for Gringotts, Lucius. Maybe you'd prefer a Muggle lift?"

Lucius snorted. "I refuse to be transported anywhere in a box, as you very well know, Bellatrix."

Severus smirked despite himself and tried not to let his nerves show. This had to work. He had one chance; if he failed, security would be increased, if that were even possible, and the Cup moved. No, he had to do it now.

After what seemed like an eternity later, the carriage screeched to a halt. Gratefully, Lucius began to clamber out of the contraption, but Severus yanked him back into his seat.

"Ladies first, Lucius – or have you learned nothing from Cissy?"

Lucius scowled. "Under the circumstances, you can understand my confusion, my _dear_ sister in law."

Severus climbed out of the carriage and walked into the now open vault, ignoring both the goblin and Lucius completely. Now…he couldn't use a Summoning spell, that went without saying. The charms around the building would never permit that. He had to search for the cup by hand.

"Help me look."

"Surely you know where you place your own possessions."

Severus glared at Lucius. "I don't have time for your antics, Lucius. Just do as I say."

As Severus began to visually sift through a pile – he dared not touch it – he kept a wary eye on Lucius, who seemed to be having the same luck. The goblin by the door began to get shifty, glaring at them as though they were personally to blame for his current boredom. Severus kept an eye on him, too, knowing that the goblin's short temper may very well get him in trouble.

What he had not expected, however, was the clang of another carriage arriving. Thinking at first that it was simply someone travelling to the vault next door, Severus continued to search, unconcerned. It was only when the goblin started shouting and Lucius started smirking that he realised something was wrong.

"My, my, how interesting," Lucius drawled. "Bellatrix, I do believe that there are two of you."

Severus spun around to see the goblin shaking a colleague, the goblin who had brought the intruders downstairs. "How could you let them in, you idiot?"

"Well, well," Severus drawled, seeing a copy of Bellatrix before him, accompanied by another Death Eater. He did a double take at seeing the man, and peered closer, noting the longer, dirty ginger hair and a beard that had never before existed. "Ronald Weasley."

The man gaped at him like a fish before too late pulling out his wand. Severus whipped out his own, but instead of attacking the ex-student, he Stunned the two goblins, preventing the coherent one from calling for help. He dragged them into the vault and closed the door until it was open only a crack. He didn't need anybody seeing this.

"And who are you," he demanded, glancing at 'Bellatrix', "Granger? Potter?"

The woman's chin jerked up defiantly. "Neither. _I _am the real Bellatrix Lestrange. Who are you?"

Severus cackled insanely. "The _real_ Bellatrix Lestrange?" he demanded, forced to keep in character because of Lucius' presence. "You never were good at lying, were you, you stupid little Mudblood?"

"We need to take them to our Lord, Bellatrix. Enough of this," Lucius said impatiently.

"I'll take them when I'm good and ready," Severus hissed.

Lucius immediately tried to stun Severus, who was ready and ducked, jumping to the side. Lucius was looking quite demented, his hair everywhere, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he held his wand in one hand and the cup in another, enfolded in fabric. He seemed to take great care in ensuring that his skin did not touch it.

"Try and hex me again, Lucius, and it'll be the last thing that you ever do!"

Lucius raised his wand but, instead of hitting Severus, knocked the fake Bellatrix to the ground. Weasley, forgetting himself, dashed to her side. "Hermione!"

Severus almost rolled his eyes. The boy should have been a Hufflepuff.

"Don't touch her!" Lucius snarled at the boy. "Or I'll kill your dear old Potions Master."

"Lucius-"

"Snape?" Now Weasley looked really confused. "What's he got to do with this?"

"Are you sure, Weasley, that you are not merely pretending to be a Pureblood? Your intellect could rival a Mudblood's."

Weasley was gradually getting redder in the face. "Oi! Hermione's the cleverest in the class, you idiot, so don't talk to me about your…" he floundered for something suitable, "blood brains!"

Severus groaned internally. Years and years of Potions classes, and the boy _still_ failed to form a coherent insult.

"This is all very entertaining," Severus growled, still hoping to pull off Bellatrix Lestrange, "but it doesn't explain why you're claiming I'm Snape, Lucius."

"You know very well why," Lucius spat. "I'm giving you in to our Lord, Severus, along with those _children_."

"Hoping for a promotion, are you?" Severus demanded, incensed. "What is it this time, you can't afford the newest palace? You're a money loving coward, Lucius, and you deserve the punishment that's coming to you."

"Punishment?" Weasley demanded.

"You're disloyal, Lucius!" Severus exclaimed. "And you're trying to cover it up!"

"You filthy, little lying-"

In mid-rant, Lucius collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Severus glanced between Weasley, who was staring gormlessly, wand dangling from his limp fingers, and Granger, who was still unconscious.

There was no one else in the room.

Severus sighed. "Come out, Potter!"

And, for once in his life completely obedient, Potter appeared from out of thin air, dropping his Invisibility Cloak to the floor carelessly. "You killed him!"

"Potter, we don't have time-"

"You killed Dumbledore!" Potter fairly yelled, pointing his wand at Severus' heart. Severus, panicking, could feel the Polyjuice Potion wearing off.

"Harry, mate, what are you talking about? That's not Snape! He's a Death Eater – why would _he_ be breaking into the bank as well?"

"I don't know, Ron, but he is! Look! The potion's wearing off!"

Weasley gaped at Severus as Severus' feet began to grow longer, forcing him to take off the heels. His chest started to shrink and his hair became shorter, his nose more pronounced. Despite everything, Severus felt burning embarrassment as he continued to morph back into his usual self, still in Bellatrix's clothes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Weasley trying to hold in a snicker.

Potter, however, didn't waver. "Why are you here, Snape?"

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, use that brain of yours! Look at your feet!"

"I'm not falling for that, _Professor_!"

Severus rolled his eyes. The Cup was right at Potter's feet, and the boy thought he was tricking him! Sneering at the idiot boy, Severus made to crouch down beside Granger, about to check her over for injuries, but a spark flying just past his face stopped him.

Severus glanced back at Potter, who was looking very pale, breathing heavily. "Trying to hit me, are we, Potter? Did it ever occur to you that it might be the tiniest bit _easier _if you attempted to do so when I was _unarmed_?"

With that announcement, Severus took out his wand and disarmed Weasley in one fell swoop, catching Weasley's wand and then pointing his own at Potter.

"Why were you dressed as _her_?" Potter demanded, not yielding one iota.

"For the very same reason that you are here."

"Which is?"

Severus growled. "To steal the _cup_, you insolent boy! Now, are you going to stand there waving your wand at me all day, or are we going to leave?"

"There's no '_we'_ about it, Snape!"

"Yeah!" Weasley chimed in. "We're not trusting you – you murdered Dumbledore!"

"Somebody wake up Granger," he growled, "so that she can bring some sanity into the conversation!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you big git – another person for you to insult-"

"Ron," Potter interrupted quietly, glaring at Snape, "do as he says."

Severus threw the boy his wand reluctantly, keeping his own trained on Potter and hoping that for once the Gryffindor would do something useful with it. Merlin knew he didn't have time for a showdown. They had to get out, and fast.

This thought was further punctuated as Granger began to revert back to her usual self, frizzy hair and all. "The _real_ Lestrange indeed," he couldn't help muttering.

"Hermione," Weasley said in a sappy voice, "can you hear me? You ok?"

"I'm fine, Ron…what happened?" Granger sat up groggily, blinking furiously when she saw Severus stood there. "Professor?"

"Snape broke into the bank," Potter explained, needlessly.

"And unfortunately," Severus added, "I am unable to break you all back out."

"Why?" Granger demanded, looking panicked and angry.

"Because," Severus said, as though explaining something very simple to an infant, "we are no longer Polyjuiced to look like Bellatrix Lestrange, Weasley is recognisable, Potter is visible and," he added in a snarl, "your antics have taken so long that we are now trapped inside this vault."

At confused glances all around, Severus rolled his eyes. "If one of you would be so kind as to open the door again, I believe you would find a squadron of Aurors outside, waiting to drag us off to Azkaban. Or, in your case, the Dark Lord."


	19. The Great Escape

**19. The Great Escape.**

Severus watched as Granger stood gingerly, Weasley hovering beside her like a particularly annoying mother hen. Potter, seemingly forgetting about Severus, hurried to the partially closed vault door and cautiously peered outside. He was rewarded by his hair getting singed by a close spell.

Jerking his head back inside, he yelped and made to close the door.

"No!" Severus jammed his foot in the door. "If you close it, we have no chance of getting out."

"But there are Aurors out there!" Potter hissed back, mercifully not stupid enough to start a shouting match now that they knew who was waiting for them. "We can't just let them _walk _in!"

Severus snorted. "And what do you suggest we do, once we do lock ourselves in? Dig a hole and climb out? It's impossible, Potter. Our only exit is through that door."

"I think he's right, Harry," Granger said quietly, placing a hand on Potter's arm.

Potter's jaw clenched, as though it was taking every iota of self restraint not to snap at his friend. "Fine. What do you think we should do, Hermione?"

Granger blinked, put on the spot. "Well…I think that we should all work together-" she floundered at Potter's outraged look, "it's the only way we can get out, Harry! If we're all fighting each other, we'll be easier targets!"

"We can't trust _Snape_!" Weasley snapped, glaring at Severus. "The git'll try to kill us!"

"Or take us to Voldemort."

"_Don't_," Severus hissed, clutching his Dark Mark, "_say his name!_ He can track people who use his name, Potter, surely even you know that!"

"So?" Weasley demanded. "We're trapped anyway, aren't we?"

Severus was finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to bang his head against the door. "Of course we're trapped, Weasley, but we'll be infinitely more trapped should the Dark Lord show up. Who would you prefer to fight, him or the Aurors?"

Potter attempted to shrug dismissively, but Severus noticed that he had become even paler. "I have to fight him anyway. Now's as good a time as any."

"Imbecilic boy."

"Well it's in the prophecy, isn't it!" Potter snapped. "And you'd know, wouldn't you, Snape, since you betrayed my parents! That's right – Dumbledore told me all about that-"

"Did he tell you why he trusted me?" Severus demanded. "Did he happen to mention that I became a spy at that very instant – that maybe I was affected by the prophecy as well?" Before the boy could answer, Severus ploughed on, getting closer and closer to the boy he hated and yet protected, until they were practically nose to nose. "Of course not. Even if he had, little _precious_ Potter would only be concerned with himself. You don't know the first thing about me! Making assumptions will only make you look stupider than you already do – an impossible feat, but you have surprised me many times before."

Potter glared darkly at him, but thankfully didn't argue.

"Now, if you're all quite finished with delaying our escape, I would like to formulate a plan."

"Wait a minute!" Weasley objected even as Potter opened his mouth, "what gives _you_ the right to be leader? Why should we trust you? You're just a murderer-"

"And a particularly good one, Weasley, so unless you keep quiet and listen to me this instant, I shall be forced to give you a firsthand demonstration of my skills. Understood?"

Silence.

"Good," Severus snarled. "Now, as you all have very limited powers of reasoning and strategy, I shall make the plan. Potter, where is your invisibility cloak?"

Potter glared at him before moving to retrieve the garment, but held onto it tightly, as though he was scared of Severus snatching it from his grip.

"Good. Get under it."

"But-"

"_Get under it_," he growled. "We haven't got all day, Potter, we need to escape before they attack. We need the element of surprise. Now, Weasley, Granger, both of you will exit the vault behind me. Weasley, go left, Granger, go right. Or vice versa. I don't care. Just make sure we have all sides covered."

"And what do I do?" Potter demanded from under the cloak.

"Just stay hidden."

"I'm not hiding while my friends are being attacked!"

"Put it this way, Potter; you either hide now and survive, or you rush out like the Gryffindor you are, get slaughtered, and the entire Wizarding and Muggle world as we know it gets annihilated. What do you choose?"

"I won't stand by and do nothing!"

"Fine. Fight if you want, but from _under_ the cloak, Potter, and nothing else. If anyone sees you, we're in trouble."

Weasley scoffed. "I'd say we're already in trouble."

"How observant, Weasley. Behind me, both of you. Potter, stay out of sight. We're attacking now."

"Professor!"

Severus whirled around and glared in annoyance. "What, Granger?"

"What do we do after that?"

"I haven't a clue."

And with that, he pushed the door open, firing as many spells as he could before he was forced to duck for cover. Behind him, he could hear Weasley and Granger yelling spells at the top of their voices. He would have told them to use the element of surprise, but they appeared to be relatively successful. Shrieks of surprise and pain told him that Potter was using his invisibility to his advantage, circling around the Aurors and attacking from behind so that no one saw where the spells came from.

Severus jumped out from behind the wall where he had been hiding, rapidly took out three under-prepared Aurors, and ducked behind the pillar opposite, wincing in pain. Glancing at his shoulder, he noticed that the fabric was singed and he had a small gash where he had been caught by a hex.

"Was that Snape?"

Severus became very still, listening to the conversation of two Aurors on the other side of the pillar.

"Just shut up and go the other way. We'll attack together."

"He can't be here – the Dark Lord-"

"_Shut it_!" His companion hissed. Their voices were getting closer.

Muttering under his breath, Severus levitated himself into the air and disappeared from ordinary line of sight just before the two Aurors appeared. Too slow to realise what had happened, they could not stop the spells they had started, and both fell to the ground, unconscious. Severus rolled his eyes and landed lightly on the ground.

Battle was still in full swing, the students' voices becoming drowned in the pained yells and shouted curses echoing off the walls. Taking a moment to formulate a strategy, Severus remained behind his pillar.

He had two choices. Firstly, he could Obliviate the two men at his feet and Lucius, hope that no one else had had a good look at him as he had run out of the vault, and return to Voldemort having "failed" to catch the Golden Trio. He could say that he had overheard a plot to break in to the bank, that the Hogwarts students had given it away.

But that would never work. The three students were on the run, presumably in contact with nobody (if they had even half a brain cell between them). There was no reasonable explanation for how Severus could possibly have "overheard" about the plot, obtained Bellatrix's hair or wand and managed to get into Gringotts. On the unlikely chance that he _had_ managed to discover the plot, he would simply have waited outside disguised as a guard and stopped them then, rather than wait until such a crucial moment. No, that explanation wouldn't work, even if he hadn't been seen protecting Potter's sidekicks as he escaped.

The last choice was simply to fight tooth and nail to get out, throw away his position as a spy, and keep the children safe. What he would do after that, he was unsure of. It all depended on them being able to get out.

Another option, but one he would never consider, would be to ditch the children here, see if they managed to fend for themselves, and run off to a sunny beach somewhere.

Severus snorted. Lucius Malfoy might do that, but Severus never would.

Taking a deep breath, he stuck his wand round the corner and aimed at random, hoping against hope that the students were hidden and that he was hitting Aurors.

"Behind that pillar!"

"Which one?"

He would have to make a break for it. Glancing around, Severus saw that there was a blind spot in the Auror's defence; an empty balcony. Ducking, he ran at a half crouch along it, ignoring the sparks flying at the pillar that he had been hidden behind. Coming to a halt, he peered over the banister and fired at the first person he saw.

The Auror jumped to the side, warned by his colleague, and turned around quickly, shooting a spell back at Severus. He ducked, and the banister was blown to pieces, rubble bouncing through Severus' hastily erected Shield Charm.

He bit his tongue, trying not to cry out in pain. A particularly large stone had caught his shoulder and his wand clattered to the floor, dropped by his now useless fingers.

He reached out for his wand with his left hand, only to see it clattering across the corridor, hit by a stray hex. The Auror who had hit him laughed, raising his wand. Severus reached into his magical core, trying frantically to gather together what little energy he had left. Just when he saw the hex coming towards him, an unconscious body was thrown in its path.

Severus ducked once more, trying to ignore the loud 'crack' made as the person crashed into the wall behind him. He looked up, and saw the Auror collapse to the floor, his head twice its original size. For a moment, he thought he saw a shimmer in the air behind the fallen Auror, and nodded at it.

The shimmer stopped, and before Severus could ponder whether he was imagining things or if it had really been Potter in his cloak, he found someone crashing into him, knocking him to the floor, jarring his dislocated shoulder.

Instinctively, he sent the stranger flying back into the battle, not even bothering to watch as his fellows scattered and tried to magically lower him safely back to the floor.

He simply lay flat on his back, seriously beginning to question how the idiot of a Minister could let Aurors that overweight into the programme. His chest felt as though it had been hit by a train, and he probably had at least two cracked ribs from the impact of an overweight man sent into him at full speed.

"I'm sorry, Professor!"

Severus groaned. It would _have_ to be her, wouldn't it? "Granger," he coughed, struggling to sit upright, "what is it with you attacking trolls when I'm around? And why must you send the second one into me?"

"I'm sorry, sir, here – let me help you…"

"No! Not that arm-"

He broke off as Granger yanked him easily to his feet by his right arm, unable to stifle a gasp of pain as he staggered, his head reeling.

"Professor! Keep down – someone's firing – _Protego_!"

For once, Severus was grateful that the witch practiced everything religiously. Her flawless Shield Charm had probably just saved his life.

"We can't carry on fighting," Severus shouted over the noise. "We need to leave!" He Summoned his wand and grabbed it clumsily. "Follow me."

"No."

Severus stopped, halfway out of his cover. A hex singing his hair reminded him to duck. "What?"

"I have an idea."

"Granger, this is no time for your Gryffindor antics! Now follow me, we're going through them. We'll need the strongest Shield Charms we can-"

Granger tugged his arm, effectively shutting him up. He glared at her hand pointedly. No student touched him. Ever. She removed her hand, blushing furiously under his glare, but tilted her chin up, showing him that she wasn't about to back down.

"There's a dragon there, Professor." She pointed down the still deserted balcony. At the end of it was a circular chamber. He could just about see the frantically rearing head of an imprisoned dragon struggling to break free to escape the sounds of fighting.

"And?"

"We ride it."

Severus stared at her. "You want to _ride_ a dragon." She nodded. "Granger, tell me, do you understand the meaning of 'inconspicuous'?"

"It's the quickest way out, sir."

Severus glanced back at the disorganized scene behind him and then at the dragon. "I can't believe I'm allowing this," he growled, before standing up and yelling, "Both of you here, _now_!"

Ducking yet another spell for his efforts, he sprinted down the corridor, tugging Granger along behind him. She tripped, unable to keep up with his long legged stride, and pulled him down with her.

"Merlin," he snapped, truly annoyed now. "At least _try_ and keep up!"

"Ron!" Granger shrieked, ignoring Severus and haring off in the other direction towards where Weasley was trapped in a corner, fighting two Aurors. Squinting, Severus took great care in aiming, trying not to hit Weasley, before felling the two wizards and freeing Weasley. Granger stopped running, dumbfounded, and turned back to him.

"You have a wand, Granger. Use it."

Weasley came running over to them, panting as though he had just run a marathon. "Where – Harry?"

"Here."

Weasley jumped around and stared at thin air. Severus nodded. "Right, good. Weasley, Granger, Potter…we're about to ride a dragon."

"No way!" Weasley exclaimed, staring at Severus in shock.

Severus sneered and shot a spell at the wizard about to knock out Weasley. "Wits about you, Weasley, limited though they may be." And with that, he started sprinting towards the dragon once again, periodically shooting spells behind him, taking care to remember where the students last were so as to avoid hitting them.

"They're getting away!"

Severus took a flying leap over the banister, Bellatrix's robes and skirts flying around him almost as impressively as his own robes would, and landed roughly on the dragon's back, almost dropping his wand in his one handed scrabble to stay on. Weasley, landing just behind him, grabbed a handful of Severus' robes and yanked him more securely into place.

Severus stared at him in surprise and Weasley let go as though burned, his eyes wide and horrified. He turned to stare at Granger. "I just _saved_ the Greasy Git!"

"Of course you did, Ron," a voice from behind Severus said breathlessly, "he's the only one who can fly this thing."

"I have many more uses than that, Potter," Severus growled, waiting impatiently as Granger was helped into place by Weasley before he cut the dragon loose.

The beast roared, enraged by the curses bouncing around its head – thankfully none of them hitting it – and began to climb up the walls, as of yet unable to properly spread its wings. The humans clung onto its back for dear life even as the Aurors below yelled for it to stop and come back.

A particularly brave wizard jumped and caught hold of the dragon's tail, managing to climb up it a whole three feet before he was roughly thrown back to the ground. A few of his colleagues bent over him, yelling his name even while the others tried in vain to stop the robbers from escaping.

"_Please_ tell me someone has the cup!" Granger yelled unexpectedly as the dragon burst through the bank's aging roof. Weasley and Potter looked at each other, aghast, before turning to Severus.

Severus remained silent for a few moments, enjoying their panic despite everything, before finally giving in and nodding with a smirk. He regretted the action when it set his head spinning and he was forced to cling to the dragon even more tightly.

"Sir?"

Severus hissed as thin fingers dug into his shoulder. "How many times do I have to tell you, Granger? _Not that arm_!"

Granger took her hand away obediently, her entire face a question.

Severus took a few deep, steadying breaths. "We'll go to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Potter ripped off his invisibility cloak indignantly, glaring at Severus. "What about Grimmauld Place? Or our tent – we've managed to hide in it for months!"

"Grimmauld Place is not safe enough," Severus spat. "The Dark Lord knows of its rough location-"

"I knew it!" Weasley yelled. "You told him, didn't you! We all saw the Death Eaters outside - I told you it was him, Hermione-"

"Use your brain, Weasley! I'm the _spy_, the Dark Lord searches my memories on a regular basis!"

"I thought you could block it – or are you telling me that you can't _empty your mind_ either?" Potter snapped.

"I couldn't block it completely, Potter, not after I killed Albus!" Everyone fell silent at that.

"How dare you," Potter said, ominously quiet, "use his name after what you did!"

"I don't have time for this-"

"Why, got an urgent appointment with Vol-"

"_Shut up!_"

Potter stared at Severus in shock, his mouth still half open. Severus was breathing heavily now, despite the pain this caused him.

"After everything I've done for you," Severus growled, one step away from hexing the brat off the dragon, prophecy be damned, "and you still have the insolent, _stupid_ idea that I'm a Death Eater?"

Potter scoffed. "What're you on about – _everything you've done for us_? You never lifted a finger – you _opened_ my mind to Vol-"

"Harry!" Granger interrupted, smacking Potter on the arm.

"Once again, your idiocy astounds me, Potter," he snarled. "Of _course_ it opened your mind at first – the regular practice weakened your defences, you stupid boy! You were supposed to strengthen them again each night using the advice I gave you! Did you?"

Potter opened his mouth, having the decency at least to look slightly guilty, but Severus cut him off.

"Of course not. Golden Boy Potter has to know better than everybody else, doesn't he, even when everyone else has more experience!"

"Well – you could have told me about the weakening defences thing!"

"And you could have bothered to do the reading that _discussed_ weakened defences. It was the first book I gave you, I believe."

"Right," Potter snapped, still looking incensed, "fine, whatever – but what about everything else? You've hated me from the very beginning, _sir_, and whenever I asked you for help, you just ignored me-"

"You asked me in front of _witnesses_, Potter. I could hardly acknowledge it if I wanted to remain a spy. You never gave me any choice!"

Potter was glaring, but Severus could see the gears turning over in his mind as he considered what he had just been told. Severus took advantage of his silence and used it to steer the dragon more in the direction of Hogwarts.

"To answer your original question, we are going to Hogwarts because we have allies there."

"What about the Carrows?" Granger asked.

Severus smirked. "They never were very good at duelling. I am sure that we shall be able to drive them out of the castle fairly easily."

They lapsed into silence then, the only sound the dragon's heavy breathing as it flew for the first time in what could very well have been a decade. Severus had unofficially been designated the 'driver' and sat closest to the dragon's head, the students sitting directly behind him, quiet in their exhaustion.

At least, until the wind began to pick up the further north they travelled and the temperature plummeted. Severus shivered, unable to perform a warming spell on himself as doing so would involve letting go of the dragon and using his wand to make sure it covered his entire body.

There was an increase in muttering from the students' end and then the boys' grateful voices.

"Thanks, 'Mione. You'll have to teach me that sometime."

"I have tried, Ronald."

Severus gritted his teeth when he realised that, as always, he was going to remain unnoticed. Perhaps he would simply freeze to death. He snorted. A Severus shaped icicle perched on top of a dragon might even make the headlines. Or a very useful source of ice for the Dark Lord's drinks.

If the monster could even drink, that is.

Trying to force the image of the Dark Lord with alcohol from his mind, Severus set himself to the task of devising a battle strategy. Once they arrived at Hogwarts, he decided, they would determine which Horcruxes were left to destroy and fill Potter in on his…condition. Then…they would rally every last wizard and witch they had on their side and wait for the Dark Lord to attack Hogwarts.

And, with Severus and Potter inside its walls, that shouldn't take very long.


	20. The Great Escape Part Two

**20. The Great Escape Part Two. **

**Author's note: **Ok, the reason this is posted in the middle of the week is because I leave for university tomorrow and don't know whether I'll be able to update at my usual time. If at all. I've written as many chapters as I can and the story is almost finished, so it won't go unresolved. No need to worry about that. This chapter is simply because I wanted to give you guys another chapter before I left since you've all been such faithful readers :-) Thank you as always for your support! Also, if anyone has any interest in a Blackadder/Harry Potter crossover that may possibly be brewing in the future, let me know. Anyway, on with the premature chapter (as always, feel free to mention mistakes or confusing situations. I honestly don't mind. In fact, I welcome it.)

oOo

"Professor?"

Severus glanced over his shoulder as a high voice broke through his reverie, then winced as pain shot through his shoulder, looking back at the landscape stretching out before him. "What is it, Granger?"

"I just wondered…" she seemed to be working up the courage to ask him something of ground breaking importance. "Would you like me to cast a Charm for you? To keep you warm, that is," she added quickly.

Severus remained silent, shocked. So he wouldn't turn into an icicle as he had previously feared. Although, to be fair, it had taken her an hour or so to notice.

She seemed to take his silence as disapproval, for she carried on talking to him as though she was about to receive a detention and she wanted to justify herself. "I noticed you were cold, Professor, that's all, since you're…er, dressed in a skirt… and since I did one for the others and you seem to have hurt your arm…I wondered if you'd need help."

Severus gave a quick, jerky nod. "If you must, Granger. But make it quick."

"Yes sir."

Severus soon found himself enveloped in comforting warmth, his entire body relaxing. Until that moment, he hadn't realised quite how cold he had been, but now the punishing wind seemed to flow right past him, the snow not even affecting him. He nodded tersely, the idea of thanking a student a completely foreign one, and directed the dragon further in the right direction.

It roared in protest, clearly tiring of carrying its charges, but a single gesture from Severus convinced it.

"Sir…"

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly, before he bothered to acknowledge the girl. "What?"

"Your arm-"

"You are to come nowhere near it."

"But-"

"Are you a qualified Mediwitch, Miss Granger?"

"No."

"Then you are definitely not to touch it."

There was an indignant huff from behind him. "But sir, I've learnt a lot about magical healing since I left Hogwarts! The two boys are very accident prone and when Harry…" she trailed off.

Severus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I managed to cure him of flu, that's all."

He did not have to turn around to know that she was lying. "Indeed? That must have been quite a feat, considering that you were on the run without medical help and Potter is well known for failing to listen to intelligent suggestion."

"Actually sir, he was very obedient," she said shortly. "You don't know him."

"And I see no need to change that fact," he replied wryly, before pouncing on the one thing she had avoided to mention. "You must tell me how you got Potter to listen to you," he said smoothly. "Perhaps it would make my job easier."

"If you just used kind words…"

"And is that what you did, Granger, to get potions down the obstinate boy's throat?"

"I…" she trailed off again, realising she had been caught.

"Where did you get the potions from, Granger?"

He heard shuffling from behind him and rolled his eyes. The girl was going to lie to him. "I already had a supply in my bag."

"Your bag?" He gently nudged the dragon back on course.

"My bag of essentials, in case we need them when we get caught-"

"And a flu remedy fits that category, does it?"

"…Yes."

Severus snorted. "I never knew that Death Eaters could be incapacitated by throwing flu potions at them. I must have been lax in my spying duties."

There was more embarrassed shuffling as Granger realised he had seen right through her.

"Potter never had the flu, did he, Miss Granger?"

There was no reply and he jerked his head around in annoyance before wincing as he forgot the pain from his shoulder. He hissed and obediently changed his position.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Just answer the question."

"No."

"Miss Granger, I am your Professor-"

"You _were_ our professor, sir, but you aren't now, and we don't know if we can trust you for sure."

He barked out a dry, bitter laugh. "Isn't saving your lives proof enough?"

"Not to Harry, and this is Harry's secret to keep."

Severus scowled, but knew better than to argue. He was Slytherin – patience was a virtue to him. He would simply wait until the right opportunity presented itself, and strike then. Perhaps sharing some of his own information with the boy would be enough to gain an answer. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the feeling that Granger's reticence to tell him about such a trivial thing had something to do with the entire situation, and he wanted to find out why.

"Very well. When we have returned to Hogwarts, or perhaps before, I shall prove that I can be trusted and Potter can tell me himself."

"Ok."

The conversation now over, Severus sank into thought once more, wondering why Granger was lying and at its implications for their chances in the war.

oOo

Severus' head nodded forward, his body finally beginning to give in to the months of improper sleep and food, his injuries still jarring him. He jerked it back upright again, forcing his eyes open, and silently berated himself. He couldn't fall asleep here; the dragon would continue to fly in its natural path and they would never get back to Hogwarts in time.

"Woah!" Weasley yelled as the dragon suddenly began to descend. "Snape, can't you get it upright again?"

"What do you think I'm doing, Weasley, stroking it?" Severus was frantically trying to ask the dragon to stop flying downwards – a path that would carry them straight into what would appear to be a very large lake.

"It's not working!" Potter added. "We'll have to jump!"

"We're not jumping," Severus snarled, still trying to get them into the air again. "It wants a drink and that is all, once it's finished-"

A splash cut off his next words and Granger's shriek made him spin around where he sat just in time to see her land in the water next to her two friends.

"Idiots," he muttered, as the dragon finished drinking and began to ascend again. He now had no choice but to follow them, since he was meant to be protecting the ungrateful children.

Bracing himself against the freezing cold water that he knew was to come, he closed his eyes and jumped off the dragon, keeping hold of his wand tightly in his left hand and praying that no one could see Bellatrix's skirts flying around his head. Suddenly, he felt himself enveloped in ice, the water spiking pins and needles into his limbs and seeming to rip at his injured shoulder. His chest forgot how to move as his lungs froze in shock, and he had to fight not to breathe in reflexively.

Kicking his legs and using his good arm to pull himself up, Severus headed for the surface, spluttering and coughing. Sweeping his hair out of his face as he trod water, he noticed that the three Gryffindors were already safely on the bank nearby, staring at him as he slowly and painfully made to join them.

He staggered out of the water, weak kneed with exhaustion, and sank to the ground, struggling for breath. "You…complete and…utter imbeciles!"

Weasley gaped like a goldfish. "What did we do now?"

Severus heaved in another lungful of air and glared at the boy. "You jumped," he snapped, finally getting his breath back, "when…I told you…not to!"

Potter shrugged. "It's done now."

"Professor Snape's right," Granger broke in, unexpectedly.

"'Mione!" Weasley squawked.

"Well he is!" she snapped back. "He told us to stay put because the dragon only wanted a drink and you didn't listen! Now we have no dragon, we're soaked, and we have no bag because I lost it in the water! We haven't even got a tent! If you two had just listened-"

"You jumped too!" Weasley argued, going bright red in the face despite the fact that he was shivering. "If you thought it was such a bad idea why did you do it?"

"Because you did!" Granger yelled back. "Someone has to keep an eye on you both or you'd be lost within two hours!"

"And Snape could have just flown the dragon back round, couldn't he!" Potter interjected, glaring at Snape. "But he wants us to be caught by Death Eaters, doesn't he, so of course he wouldn't do that. Just let us wander around until we freeze to death-"

Severus growled, furious. "It is not a car, Potter. I can't just yank the steering wheel and pull up alongside you! A dragon is a living creature – I had to convince it of every turn we made. Why do you think it was taking us so long to get back to Hogwarts? By the time I had convinced it to turn around so I could collect you all, you would have no doubt disappeared like the brainless, directionless incompetents that you are!"

Potter blinked at him, balling his hands up into fists. "Yeah? Well – that's what you say-"

"Yeah," Weasley chimed in, interrupting his friend in his enthusiasm, "you probably have your Death Eater friends waiting for us right now!"

"For goodness' sake, Ronald, Harry, listen to yourselves! You're being ridiculous!"

Severus sighed, wishing that they were back at Hogwarts if only so that he could give all three of them the worst detention of their lives. "We shall have to apparate back."

"How far is it?" Granger asked, glaring at the other two, who looked as though they were about to argue.

"I have no idea," Severus replied truthfully.

"Well that helps," Weasley muttered. "Why don't we just walk around in circles until they kill us?"

"Ronald!"

"If you had mastered apparition, Weasley, you would know that you only need to know the destination to accomplish it. As it is," he continued, stopping any further comments, "I will have to take you all back."

"Me and Hermione can go by ourselves," Potter said shortly. "We learnt to do it a long time ago; we don't need your help. Hermione, can you take Ron this time?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, Potter. You're coming back to Hogwarts with me and we're going to gather every ally I can at such short notice."

"So you can kill us."

"I don't have any desire to kill you," Severus growled, glaring at Potter and trying desperately to ignore those bright green eyes. "Much as I would enjoy it, I know that the war is much more important than finally strangling you to death."

There was a pregnant pause.

Severus clambered to his feet, grimacing at the feel of Bellatrix's ridiculous skirt clinging to his legs. He heard a choking sound and glanced up only to see Weasley struggling not to laugh, gradually turning tomato red for his efforts. Sneering at the boy, Severus flicked his wand and managed to at least dry off the skirt.

"Sir…maybe you should alter the skirt?" Granger suggested.

Severus scowled. "You will not be seeing me in a mini skirt, Granger. This situation is already ridiculous enough."

"No…" Granger sucked in a breath as though even she was having trouble keeping her composure, "I meant…maybe shorts?"

Severus flicked his wand, slightly relieved to feel that the skirt blowing out of control in the wind had turned into a much more dignified pair of shorts. Not that he would ever admit it. Instead, he rolled his eyes. "The future of the wizarding world is at stake and you're worrying about a _skirt_," he sneered, before holding out his good arm.

The three teenagers didn't move, their expressions wary now, all laughter forgotten.

"You need physical contact to apparate in tandem, I believe."

Slowly, Granger moved forwards and placed a hesitant hand on his arm. Severus turned his gaze to the others and raised an impatient eyebrow. "Well?"

"Hermione, we can't trust him," Potter said in a voice that he clearly thought was patient but was actually patronising.

"But you can trust me, Harry," Granger pointed out. "And I'm going with him."

"But 'Mione…" Weasley moaned, looking sick at the thought of Granger going anywhere with Severus.

"But nothing. I'm going with him and you either come with me or you stay here."

Weasley and Potter looked at each other for several long moments before Potter nodded and stepped forwards, grabbing hold of Severus' arm gingerly, as though the man would bite him. Weasley followed and tried to do the same, but Granger shook her head.

"We can't all go in one place, Ron, it'll be too hard on him when he apparates."

"_Not_ the other arm, Weasley."

"Well what else am I supposed to hold onto? Your hair, your nose? I mean, both are big and I could probably get a good hand hold out of them…"

"Say that again, Weasley, and you'll be forever speaking with a whistle."

"Just grab his waist," Granger ordered.

Weasley gaped at her as though she had sprung antlers, then glanced at Severus, his eyes moving down his body to his waist, before snapping back up again, his face practically turning purple in shock and outrage. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out, and Severus rolled his eyes, instead using the opportunity to wandlessly summon Granger's bag.

Granger caught it, giving him a brief, grateful smile, before she proceeded to dry it off and check its contents.

"Are you coming or not, mate?" Potter asked, looking half amused, half concerned.

Weasley managed a jerky nod and stooped down, linking his arms around Severus' waist as though scared that Severus would kill him for even trying.

"Bloody hell…we should have called him the Greasy Stick instead – he's like a bad tempered pole!"

Potter managed to snort out a bought of undignified laughter despite the circumstances. "Don't think that would've worked, Ron. Think about the name."

"Oh…right, yeah. Yuck."

"I'm not deaf," Severus snapped. "I'm still here." Then, as punishment for discussing him when he was present, Severus disapparated and reappeared in the Headmaster's office, glad that he had inherited all of the benefits that came with his position.

Donna, who was sitting in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, shrieked as Severus appeared mere feet away from her, carrying three charges. The Doctor, who seemed to have been angrily talking with Albus' portrait, span around and had his wand trained on them immediately, before he peered at them as though squinting into bright sunlight.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione?" He asked, voice slightly higher pitched in his surprise. "Is that you? Oh…this is _brilliant_! I always wanted to meet you three but I ended up with the Carrows instead…not very nice people, don't want to talk to them unless they've had a coffee, you'll end up with no eyebrows…Donna, look who it is!"

"Yes I can see that, thank you, Space Boy. I may be human but I'm not blind, you know," Donna retorted, before walking up to the group and smiling. "It's great to finally meet you! I saw you on the tv and thought 'blimey, they'd be great if they were real' and here you are! Just like the actors!"

The three teenagers stared at the Doctor and Donna. Severus smirked. "They are from a different dimension."

Granger's eyes widened, already believing his explanation without question, but the two boys looked more sceptical.

"What tricks are you playing, Snape?" Potter demanded, pulling out his wand. "You said we could trust you, and you take us to…" he stared at the Doctor, "to _Crouch_! What happened to 'I have allies'?"

"Don't be foolish," Severus snapped, not having the energy to argue. "Bartemus Crouch was Kissed – why would I take you to him?"

"But…you _have_! He's right there – he came here from the past! You know that, you're one of _them_!" Potter shouted, pointing his wand at Severus. "Let us go!"

"I wouldn't do that," the Doctor said quietly, stepping forwards.

"Stay back! Ron, Hermione, we're leaving-"

"Oh, Harry, just _listen_ to them! We know Crouch is on our side, he saved Ron's life!" Granger shouted back, clearly growing frustrated with the boy. "They're trying to help-"

"Help?" Weasley demanded. "I reckon they've got her Confunded," he muttered to Potter. "Why else would she trust him? Maybe she's in on this too! Maybe," he continued, glaring at everyone in the room except Potter, "it was all planned from the beginning – the forest was just the beginning of it all!"

"Oh for Heavens' sake!"

"Ask Albus," Severus said, making everyone else turn to him. "You trust him," he explained, "and you have kept him with you for months for advice."

"And how would you know about that, Snape?" Weasley demanded. "Been spying on us?"

"Of course he's been spying on you," Donna interjected, "he's a spy – it's his _job_!"

"You've been betraying us the entire time!"

"Harry," Albus' portrait said, his voice quiet but cutting through the atmosphere like a knife, making Potter turn around immediately, "he is telling the truth."

"But sir," Potter bit out, "he murdered you! You trusted him, you let him teach here for years, and then he stabbed you in the back-"

"It was more of a potion down the throat, but your concern is appreciated, Harry. Let me ask you something…if I may, of course?"

Potter nodded, silenced by the portrait's keen blue gaze.

"Do you remember the clues that led you to find the Horcruxes?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the Patronus?"

"The doe."

"Yes," Albus replied. "The doe. It belonged to someone that you know."

"I've told them sir," Granger interrupted. I tried telling them that it probably belonged to Crouch – or whoever he is – and Ron even saw it, but they won't believe me."

"Yet they were quite happy to trust its source," Albus noted.

"We trusted Hermione," Potter defended. "No one else."

"Would you jump off a cliff if she asked you to?" Severus demanded. "You need to make your own choices."

"Severus, that probably isn't helping," the Doctor muttered.

"The Patronus belonged to Severus."

As one, the room looked at Severus, who stared back stonily before sighing and pulling out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

The familiar doe appeared, fainter than usual and flickering slightly, but still easily recognisable as it galloped around the room. The Doctor turned to glance at Severus, frowning, before the Patronus disappeared for good.

Potter turned to stare at Severus. "_You_ were helping us?"

"Is that so hard to believe, Potter? I did protect you for your whole life, after all."

"This has to be a trick."

"It is no trick, Harry," Albus said quietly.

Granger looked at Severus, sympathy written across her face. "Harry, didn't you say your Dad's Animagus was a stag?"

Severus' eyes widened and he contemplated hiding behind his hair before he realised that a dignified approach would be preferable to acting like a schoolboy. Potter shrugged dismissively.

"So?"

"A stag and a doe, Harry."

Potter almost dropped his wand in shock, then, his face turning white. "Are you saying that Snape's my_ father_?"

Severus stared a Potter for what felt like an eternity, all tiredness forgotten, before he broke into what could only be described as slightly hysterical laughter, the stress and fears of the last few months finally breaking through his calm façade in the most surprising way possible. It was all he could do to reach a chair and sink into it, gasping for breath.

"Your idiocy knows no bounds, Potter. Do you really think that, had I been your father, I would have let all of this," he waved a hand around, "happen?"

"Yes, actually!" Potter fumed, annoyed that he was being laughed at. "You're not exactly the muffin baking teddy bear of the dungeons, are you?"

"So…" the Doctor's face twitched, as though he was trying hard not to laugh, "this _isn't_ a universe difference? I'm almost disappointed, to be honest."

"That's beside the point," Severus said, wrenching himself back under control. "We need to gather every ally we can find."

"Which reminds me," the Doctor said, glancing at Albus, "we tried to find you earlier – the Carrows were running riot again, half the students with them – and you weren't here, and now you want to find every ally we can? What did you do?"

"I broke into Gringotts." Severus pulled the Cup out of his robe pockets. "And I believe I have just found the last Horcrux."


	21. Closer to the End

**21. Closer to the End.**

The Doctor stared at Severus, open mouthed in shock. "You went into Gringotts," he said in a voice that gradually increased in pitch, "even when I told you not to? Are you _mad_? Do you have _any_ idea of what could have happened – you could have been killed or captured or… horribly maimed-"

"I understand the risk, Doctor, but it had to be done. There's no point arguing about it," Severus continued shortly, seeing the Doctor about to argue, "it's done. I can't reverse it…unless of course you want me to."

"This is no time to be sarcastic! Don't you see what you could have done?"

"If anyone is to blame, then surely you are, Doctor, since you revealed certain truths-"

"You were in my head and I hadn't met a telepath in years, how was I supposed to _not_ tell you?"

"Gentlemen," Albus called out sternly, "this is a very interesting debate but I must remind you of the task at hand."

"Yes, right, so…what's the plan? Has anyone got a plan?" The Doctor demanded.

Harry nodded. "Yeah…er, find Voldemort and…well, kill him."

The Doctor faltered for a moment before nodding. "Yes…_good_, kill Voldemort." He lifted up a finger. "But how do we kill Voldemort?"

Ron shrugged. "Well that's easy. You just point your wand right between his eyes and Avada Kedavra him to death."

The Doctor blinked. "Let me put this another way-"

"Have you learned nothing from your time on the run?" Severus demanded, glaring at the students. "What have you been _doing_ for the entire duration?"

"Killing horcruxes."

"An interesting choice of words, Weasley, as a horcrux is not a living being."

"Actually," Hermione piped up, "a horcrux is by definition a fraction of soul placed outside the original being. Technically speaking it _could_ be classified as one, but that of course opens the whole debate surrounding the body, mind and soul distinction."

Severus' glare intensified and Hermione ducked her head, blushing furiously, before seeming to decide that she would not be intimidated and returned to looking the older man in the eye.

"And I think," Donna put in, "that this was the first time in a while that Severus got owned."

"Shut up, we're on a tight schedule," Severus snapped.

"Yeah. Sorry. But you don't have to be so rude."

"Fine."

The Doctor resisted only barely from rolling his eyes. "Right, so, back to business. You have that horcrux, Severus. Are there any others?"

Harry shook his head. "We ki – destroyed the others. That was the last one to find."

Severus snorted. "Surprisingly efficient."

"Severus," Albus warned, but the cantankerous man ignored the painting.

"Now, does anyone have the sword of Gryffindor?" The Doctor asked.

The three teenagers shifted around nervously before Harry finally spoke. "Yeah…er, we did have it but we got attacked several times since then and…" he trailed off, blushing furiously.

"You _lost_ the sword of Gryffindor," Severus stated tersely, regaining his feet. "Potter, do you even realise how much we had to go through to get it in the first place?"

"Dumbledore left it in this room," Potter snapped. "All you 'went through' was Ginny trying to steal it!"

"It was a fake, you imbecilic boy! Do you honestly think that Albus would have left something so important in plain reach of the general public?"

"But Hogwarts is safe," Weasley interjected.

Severus opened his mouth to say something scathing, no doubt, but the Doctor interrupted him. "What he means is that the sword in this office was a decoy. You-Know-Who had the real one. He gave it to us during a meeting."

"Hang on – _he _had the sword?"

"Yes, Weasley. He stole it from Dumbledore – with great difficulty of course," Severus smirked, "as he is not a Gryffindor. And as the only Gryffindors _worthy_ enough to wield it have managed to lose it irreversibly, we shall have to find another way of destroying the horcrux. Perhaps a basilisk fang?"

The Doctor nodded. "I'll do that."

"Hang on, you're not killing that _thing_ along, Space Boy! Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

"Well you can't, Donna, you're…" the Doctor floundered for a moment, waving his hand in the air aimlessly while Donna stared at him expectantly.

"Just a Muggle?" She suggested. "I wouldn't be if you'd let me learn magic!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but it was necessary."

"Just like it'll be _necessary_ for me to sit on the sidelines and watch you all get slaughtered? No thanks. I'm coming with you."

"Donna, you can't! You have no way of defending yourself-"

"And whose fault is that?"

"As interesting as this is," Albus said, "I do believe we have lost a member of the group."

The Doctor glanced around, ignoring Donna's continuing rant on magic, and met three pairs of young, anxious eyes.

Severus was nowhere to be found.

"Who had the Cup?" The Doctor demanded of the three teenagers, who hesitated. "Quickly! Who had it?"

"Professor Snape," Granger volunteered.

The Doctor swore mentally. "No…no, no, no – he can't do that! I told him not to change things – oh, why do people never listen to me? The rest of you, stay here, I'm going to find him." He ran to the door before swirling around again. "Actually, someone go and get Minerva, ask her to Floo everyone who can help in the battle, we don't know when it's coming, so be quick. The rest of you…just do something!"

"He's weird, that one," the Doctor heard Ron mutter as he sprinted from the room.

Leaping down the staircase almost in one go, the Doctor stumbled into the wall opposite before pulling himself upright, ignoring the startled shrieks that he received from passing students. He was just nearing the girls' toilets, where he sincerely hoped that the Chamber would be in this universe, when the Carrows came barrelling round the corner.

"You!" Alecto shouted. "You traitor, the Dark Lord told us what you did! You-"

The Doctor swished his wand, jumped over the two unconscious bodies, and continued running. "Sorry," he muttered belatedly, "I'm in a rush."

Skidding around the last corner, the Doctor ducked into the bathroom only to find it eerily silent. The taps stood in the middle of the room, completely untouched and immobile. The Doctor ran a quick circuit around them before he came to a panting halt, staring around the room desperately.

Taking an educated leap, he yelled, "MYRTLE!"

There was no reply.

"MYRTLE!"

There was a sob from the end toilet and the Doctor ran towards it, sitting on the floor and peering into the toilet lid. He scrunched up his nose. "Blimey, doesn't Filch ever clean these things?"

There was another sniff before Moaning Myrtle finally made an appearance, as ghostly and miserable as the Doctor remembered her being in the films. "No. Nobody ever comes in here." She wailed. "They leave me here, all alone. Nobody to talk to."

"Yes, that's great, Myrtle, but I really have to ask you-"

The Doctor shuddered as Myrtle glared, crossed her arms, and deliberately dived right through him, sending cold shivers resonating through his body. "It's not '_great'_!" She shouted. "Though everybody thinks it is! Luckly little Myrtle, living in a toilet, flying around all day. Never," she hiccoughed, "never having to worry about the war because she can't _die_!"

She wailed again and made to fly back into her toilet, but the Doctor dived in front of her, shuddering again at a sensation he hoped he never had to get used to. Surprised that someone had willingly got in her way, Myrtle stopped and turned around, curious.

"So," she sniffed, "why are you here, anyway?"

"I have to ask you a big, _big_ favour."

Myrtle floated down to the Doctor's eye level, looking him up and down, fiddling with her hair. "Go on," she said sweetly.

"I need you to tell me where the Chamber of Secrets is."

"The Chamber of Secrets?" Myrtle repeated, shocked. "Is this a joke? Let's all taunt Myrtle on her death day by mentioning where she died?"

"No! I didn't mean it like – wait a minute. You died _in _the Chamber?"

Myrtle nodded miserably. "I heard a hissing sound near the common room-"

"Which one?"

"Slytherin," Myrtle replied, irritated that the Doctor had interrupted her. "So I went to check. The next thing I know, this horrible thing is coming out of a dungeon and I'm _dead_! Ohhhhhhh, it was terrible!"

"Where is this dungeon?"

"With all the other dungeons, of course," Myrtle snapped, turning her back. "And I don't really want to talk about it anymore."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Blimey, she's unco-operative," he muttered to himself. "Listen, Myrtle," he added in a louder voice. She didn't turn round. "This is an emergency. If I don't find the Chamber of Secrets and Headmaster Snape – who is probably inside – _very_ soon, we could very well lose the war!"

"Severus is in the Chamber?" Myrtle asked, turning around at last.

The Doctor blinked. "Yes, but you're missing the point-"

"He used to come in here," she said wistfully. "My most regular companion. He used to ask me all sorts of things and I told him the answers…but then one day he never came back."

"Why not?"

"_She_ broke up with him."

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. "Who – no, actually, where is the Chamber? Answer that one, it's more important. And I need to find Severus," he added, when she looked reluctant to talk.

"At the very back of the dungeons," she said, finally. "I don't know how you open it."

"That doesn't matter. I'll work it out – I'm good like that, very clever. Thank you Myrtle," he called, already running off, "you've been brilliant!"

A distant splash announced the Doctor leaving the toilets, and he knew that Myrtle was annoyed that he had left. Pushing the unfriendly ghost from his mind, he sprinted back the way he had come, this time taking the opportunity to tie up the still unconscious Carrows and take their wands. He was just running around a corner, pocketing the wands, when he ran straight into someone.

The Doctor fell to the ground, hearing another thud as the person he had run into did the same. Panting heavily from running and desperately trying to get up quickly, he missed the astonished look on the person's face.

"You're the traitor!" a shaky voice announced. "Where's the other one?"

"News travels fast," the Doctor muttered, before spinning around and looking at the person he had knocked over. It was Draco Malfoy. The Doctor instinctively raised his wand, but Draco held his hands up in surrender and scrunched up his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

"Don't hex me! I'm not with _him_ – I just want to know how you did it!"

"Why should I trust you, Draco, when your father tried to use our loyalties for his own gain?"

"I'm not my father," Draco spat. "I'm sick of this war. I'm sick of running and hiding and the…the _burning_, and so is he."

"Though not for the same reasons." Draco shook his head and made to get to his feet, but the Doctor moved his wand closer. "Talk very quickly, Draco, I'm in a bit of a rush."

"I want to help. I want to be free – I don't want to do this anymore. My father says we should stay with it; he thinks there'll be good money for us at the end, but I don't care."

"You're scared."

"I'm not _scared_," Draco scoffed unconvincingly. "I just don't want to have to test my food before I eat it."

"Go to the Headmaster's office, Draco, and talk to Professor McGonagall." He helped the boy to his feet. "Well go on! You still have to convince them of your loyalties and form a battle plan, yet! We haven't got all year!"

"Yes sir."

"At this rate we'll have no one left fighting for Voldemort," the Doctor muttered, not even checking that Draco had gone the right way.

He finally reached the dungeons and slowed down, listening carefully, pressing his ear close to each door without actually touching it in case there were Wards. Silently casting a sound amplifying Charm, he crept further into the labyrinth of the dungeons, keeping an eye out for anyone who might walk past him.

He passed the Slytherin Common room and Severus' old office, which now served Slughorn. The man himself was nowhere to be found, no doubt either summoned to Minerva or hiding out in his private quarters, not having heard the news about the Doctor and Severus' treason.

Distant voices caused the Doctor to turn his head, looking down the corridor that no one ever seemed to venture into. As far as he knew, it didn't lead anywhere, although that might have been quite a different story in the Founders' day.

Wand held at the ready, the Doctor ran down the corridor, ignoring as always the niggle in the back of his mind that called for caution in an unknown location. The voices grew louder as he continued, two of them distinctly taunting and the other sounding broken and anguished.

A door loomed up at the end of the corridor, heavy and wooden with metal bars draped across it, looking like an ancient prison or torture chamber. It was slightly open, and the Doctor could see a bright light coming from it.

"Severus?"

As he neared the door, the voices became distinct enough for him to hear.

"I never wanted you, Snape. You were just there to make James jealous."

"Yeah," a male voice chimed in. "You were only ever her rotten arm candy, Snape. And it worked, didn't it, because I'm with her and you're not!"

"You're also dead and I'm not!" A voice that the Doctor knew all too well snarled.

"Yes, but so am I," the female voice pointed out derisively. "Surely you've noticed? We're together in death, and you have no one. You might as well not be alive."

The Doctor burst through the door then, angry and preparing to face what he knew was a horcrux trying to convince Severus not to attack it. Sure enough, in the centre of the room was the Cup of Hufflepuff, lying next to a long dead basilisk. Two bright figures composed entirely of light were looming over another, who was crouched on the floor, doubled over. A basilisk fang was just visible in Severus' grip, shaking furiously along with his hand.

"That's not quite true, Lily," the image of James Potter smirked. "He does have Filch and his stinky little cat."

Well…that answered the question of whether Severus knew about that particular love interest.

Severus shook harder. "Shut up," he said weakly. "Shut up, or-"

"And if that's the best you can attract," Lily laughed, "then no wonder _I'm_ your only option. But even a dead body would reject you, Snape-"

The Doctor ran over to Severus and grabbed the fang from his hand, trying not to cut himself as he did so. Severus didn't even seem to notice; he was just crouching on the floor, hugging his arms around his midriff, shaking uncontrollably.

"-it would decompose at the sight of your ugly nose," James added maliciously.

The Doctor ran over to the horcrux, fang raised, and stabbed it. Lily and James shrieked in unison, making the hunched over man on the floor twitch uncontrollably.

"No!" Severus called out. "You've killed them!"

The figures made of light began to flicker and fade, ghostly blood leaking from their bodies even as the Cup began to bleed molten gold. The couple was still screaming, scrabbling at the air, trying to get to the Doctor, who stepped back and watched grimly until the last remnants of Voldemort's final horcrux folded in on itself.

"You killed them!"

The Doctor span around to see Severus struggling and failing to get to his feet, one arm hanging limply by his side and the other gesturing the molten cup. The Doctor ran over to him and pushed him easily back onto the floor. Severus slumped back and the Doctor held him in place, careful not to touch what seemed to be a very painful injury on his arm.

"Calm down, it was just a horcrux, remember? It was just an image. It wasn't really them."

Severus shuddered and closed his eyes, looking deathly pale. "I can't do this anymore."

"Yes," the Doctor said emphatically, "you can! You've been doing it for _years_ – a thankless task, yes, but you knew that when you started, and yet you kept going!"

Severus started laughing then, sounding slightly hysterical and wincing as the movement jarred his shoulder. "I never had a _choice_, Doctor! It was either that or Azkaban. Albus made that very clear."

"There's always a choice," the Doctor said, discreetly getting his wand out and starting some medical scans.

He laughed more, his head falling forwards, his hair obscuring his face. "The old coot always knew how to get people to bend to his will. I wasn't even marked at that stage. I was just a new recruit, still in training. But I either had to get fully indoctrinated and become a spy, or I'd be arrested for affiliation." He laughed again at the irony, his entire body shuddering. "He ruined my life. If I had left while I had the chance…"

The Doctor frowned and shook his wand before glancing back up at Severus. "Why didn't you?"

"Lily," Severus muttered. "Albus only offered his protection when I became a spy."

The Doctor frowned. It seemed that in every universe, Dumbledore was destined to be manipulative and driven. "You dated her once, didn't you?"

Severus nodded, his hair still obscuring his bowed head. "She…had strict rules. No hand holding in public…nothing past kissing in private, and rarely even that. She didn't want me. I tried…"

"You went to Moaning Myrtle."

Severus snorted, the sound bitter. "Only because I had no friends. I needed advice. Lily was still a good friend to me and I wanted to keep her."

"No she wasn't," the Doctor countered. "Not if she was leading you on like that."

Severus shook his head. "She was a good friend, Doctor. One of the best."

The Doctor sighed, knowing that he would never be able to convince the lonely man before him that his best friend – his only friend – and the woman he had loved had been less than good towards him. Instead, he finished his scans and leaned back slightly.

"This is going to hurt."

"What-" Severus' voice cut off into a hastily swallowed shout as the Doctor quickly and efficiently healed the dislocated shoulder and broken ribs.

"Do you have potions with you?"

Severus gasped, his face screwed up in pain, swaying slightly from the shock of such a sudden spell. "Be…more specific."

"Nutrition Potions, Strengthening Solutions, Pain Potions?" The Doctor rattled off. "Anything?"

"Yes."

"I thought so," the Doctor replied, staring at the man before him. "Because if you didn't, you'd be in the Hospital Wing."

Severus waved a dismissive hand and moved out of the Doctor's hold. "Don't be melodramatic. I'm fine." He tried to get to his feet and failed, the Doctor having to catch him magically before he hit the hard, stone floor of the disused dungeon.

"You're obviously not _fine_," the Doctor replied. "You haven't eaten and slept properly since before Donna and I got here and you've been running on potions for weeks. You're further away from fine than you're ever going to be." He thought briefly of the end of the Deathly Hallows and added, "And we have to hope it only improves from there."

He lowered Severus back onto the floor, trying to ignore the fact that those dark and heavy billowing robes had hidden the problem for long enough that the Doctor was the first to find out now. Seeing that the other man was shivering in the cold room, the Doctor transfigured what seemed to be a badly transfigured pair of shorts into a more dignified and warm pair of black trousers.

"Where are your potions?"

"In my robes," Severus muttered, nodding down at his chest.

"Of course they are. Forget carrying food around with you, no, you have to take potions that only prolong the problem rather than actually fixing it."

"You seem to be rather enjoying my predicament, if your ranting is anything to go by."

"I know a lot of people who don't have common sense," the Doctor replied shortly. "You just seem to have a lot of unfortunate stubbornness mixed in. Normally I wouldn't be shouting at you – well, actually, I probably would in some way – but this is very badly timed and you should have known better. The _spy_, Severus, isn't supposed to die from malnutrition!"

"I didn't plan this, Doctor!"

"What is it, then? Nothing came up on my scans. If you didn't plan it and it wasn't an illness, what else could it possibly be?"

Severus simply looked at him. "Stress."

"Ah. Yes, right…sorry. You know, it's quite ironic that I always seem to miss the obvious, isn't it?"

"The truly intelligent often don't notice what is right before them," Severus said. "Albus could tell you that."

"Oh, I don't know. That man is pretty clever, if you ask me. Now, we need to get back to your office. Draco is probably getting torn to pieces without me there to vouch for him. And you probably need to explain everything to Harry properly. Aside from him thinking you were his father...he probably got the wrong idea when Hermione mentioned a stag and a doe...James being the stag, of course." The Doctor coughed. "You might want to tell him it was Lily."

Severus groaned. "I should have known the imbecile would never have understood. I sometimes think that the Potter gene pool is designed to hand out as little intelligence as possible."

Severus stood slowly, energized by the potions that the Doctor had given him. The Doctor joined him, glancing at him every now and then to make sure that he wasn't experiencing any side effects. Gradually, their pace picked up until they were almost running towards the Headmaster's office.

Filius Flitwick came barrelling around the corner, stopping short at the sight of them. He stared at them in silence for several moments before offering a small, uncertain smile. "Minerva tells me that you are on our side."

"We always have been," Severus said shortly, moving to walk on.

Filius stepped in front of the taller man, his face a sincere apology. "Severus, I'm sorry, I should have realised."

"You weren't meant to. That was the whole point." Severus wavered for a moment before giving the smaller man a nod. "But the sentiment is appreciated."

"Good, good…now, there is something I have to ask you both. We have been unable to find Horace…do you have any idea where he might be? It's rather urgent, you see."

"We haven't seen him," the Doctor offered. "Check his quarters; he might be hiding."

Filius nodded and ran off, leaving the Doctor and Severus alone in the corridor outside the entrance to Severus' office.

"Now that's out of the way," the Doctor said with a great deal of enthusiasm, "let's go and win a war!"


	22. Reaching a Crescendo

**Author's Note: **Congratulations are in order for MorganBanner, who very, _very_ nearly managed to guess completely what brought the Doctor and Donna to the HP universe! As always, thank you to those who read and review. Your support has been immensely important for me!

**22. Reaching a Crescendo.**

"I'm not trusting you, ferret face!"

Severus snorted, glancing at the Doctor as they both rode up the spiral staircase. "I had thought that Weasley's brain was merely a late developer. Clearly I was wrong."

"He can't help it," the Doctor replied, raising an eyebrow as Severus sneered. "Although it's good to know that you do have _some_ faith in your students."

Severus snorted again, his smirk increasing as they walked into the room side by side, drawing their wands at the scene before them, their movements almost perfectly united.

Draco was all but hiding behind Minerva, his face white and bloodless as he stared at Ron and Harry, who were being frantically held back by Hermione and a bearded man that the Doctor only barely recognised as Remus Lupin. The Weasley twins were stood by the fire, quietly exchanging comments and putting in ill-timed jokes. Their mother was stood within swatting distance, constantly berating them it seemed even while their father struggled to restrain an indulging smile.

Aberforth Dumbledore was in reluctant conversation with his portrait brother, his gestures looking slightly irritated while Albus seemed to remain calm as always. The Hogwarts professors were assembled in various spots around the room, mixed in with the majority of Order members that the Doctor remembered reading about, and then some.

The Doctor grinned brightly and walked over to Donna, since Severus was already making a malevolent bee line for the three arguing teenagers. "This is brilliant!"

"There's more coming!" Donna said, breathless with anticipation. "We ran into Neville Longbottom on the way to the Room of Requirement, just like you said, Doctor, and he's going to bring the DA!"

The Doctor whistled. "We might have to move to a bigger room."

"If I've told you once, Weasley," Severus was meanwhile shouting, all patience clearly lost, "I've told you a thousand times! Don't judge parchment by its seal!"

"Yeah?" Ron replied, spoiling for a fight. "Well, if his is all slimy and horrible, I think I can be forgiven!"

"Oh, pull yourselves together, both of you!" Minerva snapped, glaring at her two Gryffindors. "I am ashamed and appalled at your behaviour! We come from a House that supports acceptance and non-biased morals – kindly act like you at least know about them!"

"But-"

"No buts, Mr Potter," Minerva interrupted sternly, staring down her nose at the boy.

Harry and Ron both looked sullen, but refrained from arguing further. Draco moved edgily further into the room, as far away from Harry and Ron as possible, giving Minerva a brief nod and something muttered.

Severus sighed. "Thank you, Minerva."

The Doctor jerked his head in the direction of the scene that had just ended. "Was the room like that after I left?"

"I have no idea," Donna replied. "I was in the group tracking people down."

"Donna, I thought I told you it was a bad idea to go wondering about by yourself when you haven't got a wand…"

"Not this again!" Donna sighed. "Doctor, look, I'm not a child. I grew up, like a normal person, and have been fighting aliens with you for months without so much as a paperclip." She lifted up a finger. "I would have _killed_ for a paperclip!"

The Doctor nodded. "Right. Sorry. It's just…I'm nine hundred. Everyone looks young to me."

"Including you," Donna teased, jabbing him in the side. "Youngest looking old fogie I've ever met."

"Thanks. I think."

The door opened and Neville Longbottom stuck his head round it, looking slightly nervous. The Doctor threw his hands up into the air. "Neville!"

Neville nodded. "Hi!"

Severus span around, glaring. "He knows about you?"

"Of course he does – he's my number one general!" The Doctor said, patting Neville on the back. "How else was I supposed to help train Dumbledore's Army?"

"Doctor…" Severus stepped over to their group, his eyebrows furrowed. "You neglected to inform me of this."

"Well…" the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, dropping his gaze as he thought of an answer before looking up and addressing his reply to the very interested ceiling. Which, he absently noted, also had portraits on it. "I thought you had too much to worry about already."

Severus scowled. "I see. Anything else that you neglected to mention?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No – actually, wait…" he thought about it for a moment, "we can't use my TARDIS in the battle."

"We _can't_?" Ron repeated, staring at him. "Why not? It's a bloody spaceship, isn't it?"

"I see Minerva filled you in," the Doctor said, nodding at Minerva, "and yes, exactly, that's the whole point. It travels through space and time; it's not really cut out for flying small distances. I tried it once-"

Donna nodded. "He wasn't very successful. Kept almost crashing into cars on the motorway." She turned to the Doctor, a grin on her face. "Didn't you steer it using string?"

"We shall have to make do without the TARDIS," Minerva said loudly, squashing the Gryffindor protests. "Doctor, are you sure there is no way you can use it, even stationary and on the sidelines?"

The Doctor shook his head. "_But_ I probably have a few alien firearms hidden away somewhere from one of my more violent and bloodthirsty incarnations. We could use them."

"Do you have throwflamers?" Arthur Weasley asked, looking inappropriately eager.

"Flamethrowers. And yes, I probably do, actually. They helped keep me warm on this ancient planet once – really, _really_ cold. You don't want to go there."

"If we could get back on topic," Severus said testily, raising an eyebrow pointedly at the two of them. "The Dark Lord will no doubt plan a direct attack. He has no sense of subtlety."

George Weasley snorted. "Must be the only Slytherin who doesn't."

"Malfoy doesn't," his twin added, smirking.

"I do!" Draco protested. "You just don't see it, Weasley, because you're too Gryffindor!"

Severus cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I believe that it would be better to attack from sides that he will not be expecting, rather than simply defending."

"Pity we don't have the TARDIS," Harry muttered. "We could have driven it right up behind Voldemort."

"And scared the pants off him," Ron added.

"I'm sorry, but we can't use it."

"But that's what we brought it here for!" Ron exclaimed.

The Doctor shook his head, about to open his mouth and apologise again, when Ron's last statement clicked. "Hang on…_ you_ brought it here?"

"I do love these conversations," Albus muttered jovially. "Everyone catches up-"

"Albus, please," Severus snapped. "We have no time for your reminiscing."

"Yeah," Ron replied to the Doctor, looking sheepish.

"Mate!" Harry exclaimed, whacking Ron on the arm. "We weren't meant to tell anybody!"

"But what harm can it do?" Hermione demanded. "It's already out in the open. Hang on, I'll explain it, since those two are too busy bickering…" she stepped past the squabbling boys and into the adult group, chin held high.

"Here we go," Donna muttered.

"I read about a spell in a book that I was reading a few months ago," she explained, and everyone fell silent, staring at her curiously. "It was fairly difficult to understand, but I knew the gist. I told the boys about it, that the spell could allow us to summon help, as an alternative to a Patronus, it was really very interesting, it used-"

"The point," Severus growled. "If you please," he added, sarcastically as Hermione glanced at him indignantly.

"Right, yes…anyway, the point is that I'd told Ron and Harry that the spell was still only theoretical, and that I needed to research and run tests before we could use it. I hoped to modify it so that we could send a Patronus beyond the veil to Professor Dumbledore, but I never got the chance."

Severus nodded in dawning comprehension. "And I suppose Potter rendered your research moot."

Hermione nodded. "I walked in on him, one evening during a storm. I was going to tell him to be careful, because it was his watch next and we seemed to be in the middle of it, but the storm…" she bit her lip, glancing at Harry, who reluctantly nodded. "The storm," Hermione continued, "seemed in part to come from him. He'd tried it without waiting for me to research."

"In his defence," Ron butted in, "we hadn't found a thing in ages."

"That is still no reason to try untested spells," Minerva declared, looking disappointed in her student. "Did you encourage him, Mr Weasley?"

"What? No!"

"Ron had no idea," Harry explained. "I thought of it all by myself."

"Naturally," Severus sneered.

"So…" Donna stared at Harry. "How did you manage to get the energy to pull us into this universe? The Doctor said it was enough to outpower the TARDIS. How is that even possible?"

"The spell amplifies magical power," Harry explained. "Sort of."

"And he drained his magical core," the Doctor translated. "He almost died from it. Correct me if I'm wrong, Hermione, but you were the one who broke into Severus' stores, weren't you? You must have run out of supplies, or become desperate, because that was a very, very dangerous thing to do."

Hermione turned white. "How did you know about that?"

"Severus detected a feline life force headed away from the scene, and said that Mrs Norris was never in the right place." He glanced at Severus. "It was a cover for the students."

Severus nodded. "It was obviously not Mrs Norris, who always appears at the most inopportune moments."

"You're an Animagus?" Neville asked, gazing at Hermione in awe.

Ron snorted. "She looks ruddy similar to Crooshanks. He's in love with her, if you ask me."

Hermione whacked his arm. "I told you that's not true!"

"So you needed the potions," Donna summarised. "For what, exactly?"

"To replenish Potter's core," Severus interjected. "I suspect that it took a long time. Miss Granger was particularly evasive on the subject."

"Only because it wasn't my secret to tell," Hermione defended. "And yes, actually, it took a while. But it worked."

"But you weren't sure," the Doctor pointed out.

"No," Harry admitted. "I thought it'd failed."

"And when you saw that I had appeared seemingly from the dead, on the same date that you attempted the spell, you got curious. Ron's incident in the woods only complicated the mystery. You went back to Hermione's house, where you hoped you'd find all of her old newspaper subscriptions. And my arrival was there, just as you suspected."

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "But we thought you were someone from the Order or from another country, opposed to Voldemort, who had found Crouch's body, Polyjuiced it and taken the opportunity to infiltrate the Death Eaters."

"We thought," Harry added, "that you were Snape's replacement as spy."

"So…that's the only reason we're here?" Donna asked.

"It's a relief, I have to admit," the Doctor said. "I half thought it'd be something worse."

"Worse?" Remus Lupin demanded, looking shocked. "What could be worse than a war with the maddest wizard who lived?"

"Well…when you've been around as long as I have, you'd be relieved to find yourself inside a volcano. Some situations are pretty shocking."

Remus nodded. "You must lead quite a life, Doctor."

"I suppose you could say that."

Albus chuckled. "Now that the mysteries are out of the way-"

"And you!" The Doctor exclaimed suddenly, rounding on Albus. "You knew about this! You were the students' link with the castle, the portrait that they carried around, yet you didn't think to mention this? I spent ages trying to work it out, along with juggling everything else – if you'd just told me, I could have gone to them earlier, since that's why I'm here. But you had to play your games, didn't you? You had to play twenty questions! Never mind that it's a war-"

"Doctor," Donna said quietly, "stop. It's finished. We have more important things to worry about than one batty old portrait."

"I quite agree," Albus commented.

"You would," Donna huffed. "Anything to avoid an argument."

"Anyway," Minerva said pointedly, glancing at Neville, "how many students are in Dumbledore's Army, Mister Longbottom?"

Neville smiled proudly. "This last year, I managed to recruit most of the school. Even some Slytherins joined. Seems they're sick of the fighting too!"

"Really? You let Slytherins join?" Fred asked.

"Seems a bit dangerous to me," George added.

"They could all be spies," Fred continued.

Neville shook his head. "I trust them. The Doctor taught me that not everyone is how they seem. The most mean looking person can have their heart in the right place if you just know where to look."

Donna thumped Severus on the back. "Looks like he'll make you the most liked professor in school!"

Severus scowled, not amused. "Hardly likely."

Neville, surprisingly, grinned. "Once they hear you were on our side, I don't think your glares will work, Professor." Severus 'harumph'ed.

"Why are you on our side, anyway?" George asked.

"Did Minerva not tell you?" Severus asked, genuinely surprised.

Minerva shook her head. "It was not my story to tell, Severus. The testimonies from Albus and myself were enough."

"He was in love with my Dad," Harry said with a grimace.

Remus gaped. "James?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Of course not!" Severus growled. "Potter, when you listen to Granger's explanations, perhaps you should engage your brain as well."

"But…she said your Patronus was a doe! My father's Animagus was a stag!"

"Blimey," Fred muttered, "that is damning evidence."

"Damning evidence indeed," George added, grinning. "I vote it's true and he's trying to cover up."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Severus snapped. "Think, Potter. Your mother, what form do you suppose she took?"

"Well, like Hermione said, she was with a stag, so a doe, I s'pose." His mouth began to gape open. "Wait…no, that's not right… my mother - how – no!"

Severus stared at him. "Why are you more shocked by that outcome than the previous one?"

"I guess," Harry blushed crimson, "that no one could picture you with…well…we thought you were so bad tempered because you were…" he shuffled his foot a little, apparently unaware of the action, "y'know, stuck in the closet."

Severus began to turn puce. "Why you insufferable, insolent little piece of sh-"

Minerva cleared her throat. "Severus!" The man obediently stopped and turned towards her. "The plan, if you please?"

The Headmaster visibly had to reign himself in. "If my suspicions are correct, the Dark Lord will gather the majority of his forces outside the boundaries of Hogwarts. They shall likely apparate, though the few who know how to fly will do so. In this eventuality, we should have several people on brooms, guarding the sky."

"I'll do that," Harry volunteered. "Then I'll kill Voldemort."

Severus hissed, but did not mention the name-calling. "You can't, Potter. You must die."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, staring at Severus as though he'd gone mad. "I thought you were on our side!"

"Hang on…" Donna lifted a finger up in the air. "I thought _Voldemort_ was meant to be murdered?" She glanced around the room. "Isn't that the whole point?"

"It is," Albus confirmed. "But the death of Harry is also necessary."

"But…why?" Harry demanded, looking alarmed. "I'm powerful – more powerful than he knows! I brought a time machine into this world by _myself_! Can't I just fire a hex at him? Why do I have to die?"

"Because," Severus said in a strangely soft tone, "you are a horcrux."

"What?" The Weasleys all seemed to exclaim this in unison, looking gobsmacked. Hermione, however, looked unsurprised.

"Harry, I'm so sorry…"

Harry rounded on her immediately. "You knew?" he accused, voice rising. "You _knew_, Hermione, and you never told me!"

"I thought you'd realised!" Hermione cried back, tears springing into her eyes. "You can talk to snakes, you have unbelievable power – he can get into your _mind_, Harry! You have a connection, and I knew that, but I wasn't entirely sure what exactly it was. I couldn't tell you!"

"Yeah, well, I guess I wasn't _clever_ enough to work it out myself or read your mind, since that seems to be expected of me these days!"

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"Enough of these histrionics!" Severus exclaimed. "Potter-"

"Oh, come on," the Doctor interrupted, annoyed. "I know we're in a battle situation, but the boy just got told he has to die. Try to be just a little bit sympathetic!"

"We don't have time!"

"We never have any time!" Donna spat back. "But we can spare a second for that!"

"Quiet!" An unlikely voice shouted over the rising hubbub. Everyone turned to stare at Neville, who seemed shocked by his own bravado. "Now, Headmaster, why does Harry _have_ to die? Isn't there another way to get rid of the Horcrux?"

"Like what?" Hermione asked, before gasping. "Oh! Neville, that's very clever!"

"What?" Donna demanded. "What did I miss?"

"Basilisk fang," Neville announced, grinning.

"It would kill him almost instantly," Severus pointed out. "And you cannot simply stab his forehead and hope that it will not have an effect on him!"

"What about Fawkes?" Donna asked, catching on. "He can heal wounds, can't he?"

"Fawkes is gone," Albus said sadly. "I have not yet seen him return after my death."

Neville and Hermione's smiles disappeared. Harry smirked grimly. "Guess I'm dead, then."

"No!" Donna exclaimed. "Don't say that – never say that. There might be another way! Doctor?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Aside from running him through with the sword of Gryffindor, which we haven't even got, anyway, I can't see anything."

"Great," Harry muttered.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron attempted to reassure, looking pale. "We'll be with you."

"You most certainly will not!" Minerva protested. "We cannot have everyone dying!"

"It might not come to that," the Doctor said. "If we could find Voldemort by himself, somehow, we could convince him to kill Harry quickly. If he thinks it'll quicken his defeat…and we can have people standing by to revive you, Harry, if it goes wrong. Well...hopefully it _won't_ go wrong, from what I've read, but we'll be there just in case. I'd hate for this to be a difference."

"And how do we finish him, then if it doesn't work?" Ron demanded. "Harry's s'posed to kill him, not be killed by him!"

"I'll do it."

Severus glared at the Doctor. "And change the timeline?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Well, not necessarily. I could push him off a cliff…"

Severus snorted. "I will help to find a way to revive you afterwards," he said unexpectedly, looking at Harry.

Harry snorted. "Wow, thanks. I have a lot of hope now."

"I could just leave you dead, Potter, my debt to your mother be damned," Severus snarled.

"Debt? What debt?"

"Of friendship, Weasley," Draco clarified. "Honestly, do you know anything at all?"

"Shut it, Malfoy, or I'll stick this wand where the sun don't shine!"

"Right," the Doctor said. "Let's find capable fliers and people who can aim, put them in the sky like Severus said. Then we need some people waiting in the forest to ambush from behind, am I right?" Severus nodded. "Good. Then people stationed in Hogsmeade, and the other side of the castle. Everyone else will be inside. Do we have any magical creatures?"

"Hagrid made a few giant friends," Hermione interjected. "He told us about it last summer. We might be able to bring a few dragons…I think his pets are grown up now."

"Good. We'll throw a few of them in. Any vampires? Zombies? Poisonous fish?"

"I can enchant the suits of armour and statues around the castle," Minerva contributed.

"We'll get some of the stuff from our joke shop," Fred added. "We have some dungbombs that make really big clouds – you literally can't see through them."

"Excellent!" the Doctor exclaimed. "So, let's go to the Great Hall. Neville, collect everyone from the DA. We're going to tell everyone what's going on and then split into groups." He grinned at everyone in the room, getting many odd looks in return. "Allons-y!"

oOo

Three hours later, the first siege began. There was almost no warning before Minerva's Patronus came running into the Great Hall and straight up to Severus, who looked unsurprised despite the suddenness of the attack.

"They're in the forest," the Patronus informed him. "I have sent several fliers up. Not many flying Death Eaters – _Petrificus Totalus_! – we're stopping them as they apparate in."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows as the Patronus, having delivered its message, disappeared. "Fighting and conjuring a Patronus at the same time! Very impressive."

Severus nodded. "Minerva is a very strong witch," he murmured with a small smile, before turning to address the rest of the hall, amplifying his voice. "The battle has begun," he informed the hall. Muttering and shouts spread across the hall like wildfire. "We must try to remain calm," he continued above the noise. "The Death Eaters will be drunk on what they think shall be victory. We must keep a rational frame of mind if we wish to defeat them."

The students nodded. Donna, beside the Doctor, looked down at the weapon that he had given her. "So…how do I use this ray gun again?"

"All you need to do," the Doctor murmured, "is press that red button there. Ignore the green ones and the blue dial – that'll kill. You don't want that. If someone does die," he added, reaching into his robes and withdrawing a container, "use this. It's for the artron energy."

"I can't just collect energy on a battle field!" Donna exclaimed. "And I thought your TARDIS was all powered up, anyway?"

"It is," the Doctor confirmed. "But you can put the artron energy into that gun if it runs low on power and it'll recharge. Sort of…time lord batteries, bit difficult to explain. They only work because they don't draw their energy directly from our universe."

"Maybe you should think about making your TARDIS run off time lord batteries."

The Doctor stared at her. "Donna, that's brilliant!" He looked off into space. "If I could just re-route the-"

"Doctor?" Severus asked, turning towards him. "Are you listening?"

"What? Me? Oh…yes, of course, wouldn't miss it for the world."

Severus' lip curled. "The Death Eaters have appeared in Hogsmeade," he said, apparently for the second time as no one else reacted to the news. "We must get ready to move."

"Already? Gosh, they don't waste any time, do they?" The Doctor took out his wand and moved forwards, closer to the students. "Are you ready?"

There was a resounding "YES!" through the hall.

The Doctor grinned. "Brilliant! You really are brilliant, all you magical humans. Now, shall I lead one group – split down the middle, and you lead the other, Severus?"

Severus nodded. The Doctor turned back to the students. "Right – just split down the middle, there, no – Draco, you're on the other side, stop hiding behind Milicent, good, thank you."

Aberforth's Patronus came galloping into the Great Hall. "Get ready. They're coming."

"Right," the Doctor shouted over the nervous hubbub, "I'd give you all a rousing speech – friends, Romans, countrymen, everything like that – but we have no time. So if you're willing to finally defeat the most sadistic, insane and, quite frankly, ugly wizard of all time, come with me!"

The students in his group roared, some laughing at the insult to Voldemort, and followed the Doctor out of the Great Hall. Donna trotted alongside him. On their way out the Hall, they saw Filch waiting nervously.

"Have you seen Severus?" He lifted his pitchfork into the air. "I need to talk to him before I go out there."

"Argus!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I didn't know you were on our side!"

Filch shrugged. "The Headmaster is, so am I. I'm loyal to Se – to the castle."

There was another cheer from the Great Hall and Severus emerged, looking surprised to see the Doctor's group still inside the Entrance Hall. "Doctor, why are you still here? You were supposed to charge!"

"Argus wants to talk to you. I was just telling him where you were."

Filch went running up to Severus, battling through the students and waving his pitchfork at them. "Severus! I have to tell you, and I don't care who hears!"

Severus' eyes widened in horror, but he quickly tried to mask it, nodding his head politely. "Argus, I already know."

Filch looked slightly taken aback, though hope was written across his face. "You know? Really? Do you feel – I mean, do you agree?"

Several students were staring at the unfolding scene with horror, some hastily exchanging comments. Some were even shaking hands or exchanging money, smirking. Severus seemed to notice this, because his lips pressed into a thin line and he looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Argus."

Filch staggered back a step, dropping his pitchfork. "What?"

Severus looked pained, obviously understanding what the man was going through. "I can't, Argus. I'm sorry."

Filch stood there for several long moments, staring blankly, before his face contorted into an expression of extreme rage and he picked up his pitchfork, glaring hatefully at Severus. "To think of all the things I sacrificed for you!"

There were screams outside the castle and the very foundations seemed to shake. Severus seemed torn for a moment before he looked back to Filch. "Argus, we must go into battle."

"Fine!" Filch yelled. "But not with you!"

Suddenly, he lunged, and Severus Stunned him quickly, lifting his body and moving it out of the way, depositing it near a student on the edge of the crowd. "Take him to the Hospital Wing," he ordered. "Now – we must move!"

The students turned as one and together they ran out of the Entrance doors and into the battle, shrieking spells at the first Death Eaters they saw. The bedraggled men, already having fought through the outside forces, fell quickly, taken by surprise at the remaining number of people within the castle, before they caught on and began to fight back.

Donna stood next to the Doctor, yelping in surprise every time she fired the ray gun. At first, she missed everyone she aimed at, hitting a few students. She looked stricken. "Oh no! No, no, NO – Doctor! Help!"

The Doctor crouched down to avoid a spell and aimed at the fallen students, reviving them and erecting a protective shield around them. "There, try again."

"I can't!"

"Come on, Donna!"

Donna closed her eyes and fired the gun in the random direction of a crowd of Death Eaters, scattering them but hitting three of them. She opened her eyes. "I did it!"

She shrieked and dove out of the way of a hex. "Oh," she yelled, staggering back to her feet, "now it's war, sunshine!"

The Doctor grinned before he turned around and felled two Death Eaters, sending a fallen piece of rubble flying towards a group. They scattered, disoriented, and the Doctor felled the least aware. Severus ran past, ducking killing curses, and dove behind a large chunk of stone. The Doctor aimed at the man who had been trying to kill him but only succeeded in making him stumble. Soon, he was forced into the same hiding place.

"I might try something."

Severus looked at him briefly before briefly shooting a spell over the top of their cover. "What?"

"Flying."

"I'll cover you."

The Doctor nodded. "Thanks. Ok, I'm going now." He concentrated, centring his magic and focusing on his surroundings. He emptied his mind of all strong emotion, instead becoming a being of pure logic and strategy. He was dimly aware of Severus firing spells to distract the Death Eaters. Pushing even that into the back of his mind for now, the Doctor felt his feet leaving the ground.

"Make me invisible," he muttered.

There was a brief pause before he felt a shimmer of Severus' magic on him, and the Doctor knew he was invisible. Flying higher and higher into the air, the Doctor finally opened his eyes, seeing the battlefield spread out before him like a map. He could see the Death Eaters clearly.

Most of them were still wearing their masks or robes, seemingly having forgotten that it made them a bigger target. The Doctor felled them one by one, gradually hovering across the battle field. Below him, he saw Minerva duelling Bellatrix LeStrange, a look of utmost fury on her face.

The Doctor Stunned Bellatrix from above, causing Minerva to look up in surprise. The Doctor, feeling the magic beginning to tax his system, lowered himself to the ground and rendered himself visible once more.

"I thought you could use help."

"Oh!" Minerva jumped, spinning around. "Doctor, you startled me! _Stupefy_!" A Death Eater behind the Doctor fell to the floor.

"_Levicorpus_!" the Doctor sent a Death Eater behind her flying into the other side of the battlefield, where he landed, unconscious from the impact. "Where's Harry?"

"I don't – _Expelliarmus_ – there he is!"

"Thanks." The Doctor ran away from her and towards the boy that she had just pointed to. All he could see was a dark head bobbing along in the crowd – he was running. The Doctor glanced to his left. He was running towards the Forbidden Forest.

Picking up his pace, the Doctor followed. He ran past Severus along the way, who seemed to be ploughing through the battle field, disarming and stunning as many of his old companions as possible. "Harry!" the Doctor yelled breathlessly. "Forest!"

He heard Severus curse and start to follow him, flinging curses over his shoulder. "Keep him in sight!"

The Doctor was running too fast to even reply, his breath coming in short spurts. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Harry had to have had a lot of practice at running in order to get this fast.

He waved his wand and a Death Eater collapsed with a screech, knocking over one of his companions. Luna, who had been knocked to the floor by one of them, stood up and immediately fired a curse towards the Death Eater attacking Neville. Everywhere the Doctor looked, he could see the DA fighting seamlessly, their moves completely professional, taught by the best student representative they could ask for.

Each Death Eater they felled looked surprised, undone by their own underestimation of the students. And the DA used this to their advantage.

Ducking into the forest, the Doctor heard Severus yell and then a thud. The Doctor span around and saw Severus standing over the dead body of Fenrir Greyback, ashen faced. The Doctor sprinted forwards and grabbed the thinner man by the arm, pulling him further into the forest.

"There's nothing you can do for him. Come on."

"I'll never be used to killing," Severus panted, sprinting after the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded. "I know what you mean. He went this way."

They swerved to the right and skidded down a steep hill, wading through the muddy water that had collected at the bottom. When they emerged, shivering, in a clearing mere minutes later, they finally found who they were looking for.

Harry Potter stood, as if nailed to the spot, in front of Lord Voldemort, who was fingering his wand lovingly and talking to Harry in his high, threatening voice. With a few steps, the space between them was closed, and Voldemort looked into Harry's eyes curiously, his red eyes narrowed.

"Legilimency," Severus muttered. "Potter must have been dragged here by a vision."

"Or he just went to Voldemort," the Doctor pointed out. "To sacrifice himself and get it finished."

Voldemort looked around, wand drawn, and spotted them. "The traitors," he sneered. "You dare use my name in my own presence?"

Severus glared at the Doctor, who had the grace to look sheepish. Voldemort grabbed Harry by the collar and pointed his wand into the boy's neck. Severus moved closer, alarmed, but Voldemort jabbed the wand in more. "Do not move, Severus."

Severus sneered. "Why are you here all alone, _Master_? Scared of fighting? You won't do the dirty work for your own 'great end'?"

Voldemort's lips twitched into a grotesque leer. "I do not need anyone for that, Severus. I choose to let people share my glory."

The Doctor snorted. "Glory? It's not glorious to go around killing, maiming and torturing - if anything, it's sick. It's the sign of a ruined mind, Lord Voldemort, not genius."

Voldemort's grip tightened. "And you, you dare defy me by hoarding Severus, a known traitor, Bartemius, and refused to answer my Summons when I called everyone together to catch him. Why?"

"If you understood a single thing about love, then you would not have to ask that question," the Doctor spat. "You're just a soulless monster; why wouldn't I betray you?"

Voldemort hissed. "You will see the error of your ways, both of you, when I rule the country and you are bowed at my feet." He smiled, the movement grotesque and frightening. "Perhaps you would enjoy a trial run?" He slashed his wand at both of them. "Bow!"

The Doctor felt magic wrap around his waist and knees, trying to force him into bowing on the muddy, filthy ground. Concentrating and pulling every reserve of magic he had left around him like a shield, the Doctor started to free himself from the spell. He heard the soft thud and squelch of flesh against mud and knew that Severus, already running off potions alone, had not been strong enough to resist.

The Doctor stood tall and proud opposite a surprised and annoyed Voldemort. "I bow to no one."

"Then you will die! Avada-"

"No!" Harry shouted, struggling in Voldemort's grip. "You promised me! You promised you'd kill no one else after I came to you!"

"Silence," Voldemort commanded. "I do not answer to a mere boy."

"But he's right, you know. It's only polite." the Doctor pointed out, walking closer to Voldemort. "And, by the way, if you kill me you'll only have to kill me again. I'm like one of those annoying little insects that you never know the name of that never seems to die. I'm like an infestation. I'm an infection. You try to kill me, and I'll only come back stronger!"

Voldemort chuckled. "Your lies have been interesting, Bartemius, but now you must die."

"Oh, and another thing," the Doctor added, "I'm not Crouch. My name is the Doctor. I'm a nine hundred year old Time Lord. I'm from Gallifrey, home of the Time Lords and victors over the Daleks. I have saved people from the fires of Pompeii, I've looked Shakespeare in the eye and told him about JK Rowling. I've travelled through time and space. I've lived and will live for longer than you can even _dream_ about."

He took a step closer. "And I'm not letting you go free."

"Then you shall die slowly, for your arrogance. Nobody can defeat Lord Voldemort."

Voldemort laughed again and pointed his wand straight at the Doctor's heart. The Doctor drew his wand, countering Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse with his own, knocking the psychopath off his feet even as he fell to the floor, writhing in the grip of the spell.

Severus, freed from kneeling, started firing curses at random at the fallen monster, his face one of utmost fury. Surprised and caught off guard, Voldemort dropped the curse on the Doctor and turned his attention to Severus, who now seemed beyond all reason.

Severus roared spell after spell, no longer in the presence of mind to keep them in his mind as he duelled the man who had killed Lily Potter. Voldemort was sneering now, deflecting each of Severus' curses with ease, though the Headmaster barely seemed to notice.

"Why, Severus, you were always one of the more articulate and organised of my Death Eaters," Voldemort taunted. "Treachery does not become you."

"Stay back for now, Harry. Wait until my signal, then I'll be ready to revive you."

Harry shook his head and grabbed the Doctor's arm, stopping him from joining in. "No. If it's meant to be me, I'm choosing when to do it."

"But-"

"No. I'm doing this. OI!" He yelled suddenly, moving closer to the duelling men and dancing around in front of them, waving his arms. "Voldemort! I'm waiting!"

Neither man noticed, still involved in the deeply personal battle. Voldemort was forced to move for the first time as Severus managed to explode the ground next to him. He was knocked off balance, unable to see through the dust, and Severus struck, firing Killing Curses at the man that was not visible through the dust cloud.

Miraculously, and unfortunately, Voldemort dodged them all, emerging from the cloud for long enough to curse Severus hard enough to knock him off his feet and across the clearing. He hit a tree hard and fell to the floor, dazed. Voldemort started to close in.

"No!" Harry yelled, firing curses at Voldemort in an attempt to distract him. The Doctor moved forward, trying to restrain the boy, but got knocked back onto the ground by a piece of wandless magic that the Doctor hadn't even known that Harry could perform.

"Get me instead!" Harry bellowed.

Voldemort, distracted from viciously casting the Cruciatus on Severus, turned and almost lazily waved his wand at Harry, who did nothing to defend himself. The boy seemed to fall in slow motion, arms wide and head staring up at the sky, while the Doctor watched, frozen.


	23. Death to Psychopaths

**Author's Note: **10Whovian has brought it to my attention that there was a mistake in the previous chapter in the form of me forgetting the Doctor already knew Harry would die, which I have now fixed. So the chapter is a bit different – you don't have to go back and re-read it, as the first paragraph reflects the Doctor's attitude (the up to date one) and hopefully means you won't be confused. As always, please point out any mistakes that you see, as I'd hate to think that they're going unnoticed!

**23. Death to Psychopaths.**

"No!" The Doctor yelled, all but vaulting off the floor and running towards the boy, but he was too late. "Harry…you were supposed to wait for my signal…" he dropped down, frantically performing the necessary spells on the boy.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was swaying on his feet, his hand clutching his heart, his wand hanging from limp fingers. "What…" He collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Oh come on," the Doctor snapped while trying to resuscitate Harry, "don't tell me you didn't work it out either! 'Greatest' wizard of his age, can't even work out a little thing like the fact that Harry's a Horcrux? I don't know…this universe is going to pot, if you ask me." He cast the spells again. "Come on…breathe! Just one, tiny little puff of air, that's all I ask for – one puff! Come on, please!"

Harry gasped, to the Doctor's great relief, and opened his eyes. "Dumbledore…where…?"

"Calm down, we're halfway there, you're alright," the Doctor reassured, taking his vital signs.

Meanwhile, Voldemort was starting to recover, clambering to his feet and glaring at Harry. "Again, then! AVADA-"

His voice was drowned out by another and he swayed, eyes staring sightlessly before him, his wand clattering to the floor before he fell forwards, landing on his face in the mud in a disgusting 'squelch' that was strangely befitting. Severus stood at the edge of the clearing, leaning heavily on the tree that he had been left beneath, his wand still pointed at the space where Voldemort had been.

The Doctor raised his eyebrow. "Well… 'neither can live while the other survives' _is_ quite loose prophecy, I suppose. And never turn your back on an enemy, even if you think he's no longer a threat, basic common sense. You'd be surprised how many tyrants don't have it." He turned back to the boy on the floor, grinning. "No side effects at all, for you! You lucky thing!"

Harry sat up, shaky from the adrenalin and fear of fighting Voldemort. "The spells worked?"

"Well…not really. I just used the usual resuscitation spells and sort of hoped that Dumbledore in your universe would also be the master of the Deathly Hallows."

"The what?"

The Doctor stared at him. "Master over Death itself? Didn't you have to choose between Hallows and Horcruxes?"

Harry shook his head. "No…all I ever had to do was find them and kill them." He got to his feet, brushing off his clothes before searching his pockets for his wand.

"But Dumbledore was still there?" The Doctor asked.

Harry nodded. "He told me to go back if I wanted." He triumphantly produced his wand and pocketed it again, reassured that he still had it. "I wasn't just going to leave everyone here, so I came back."

"So…that means Severus has the Elder Wand? I mean, he _did_ kill Dumbledore, and Voldemort didn't kill him because he thought he had it, and there's no Draco Malfoy complication in this universe…"

"…What?"

The Doctor walked over to the man in question, stepping over Voldemort's dead body, hearing Harry do the same. Severus pushed himself away from the tree as they approached, attempting to stand tall and proud despite the fact that he was swaying and shaking so much that he was clearly having trouble just to stand.

"He's gone?" Severus muttered quietly, almost as though saying it too loud would make it untrue.

"Yes," the Doctor replied. "The Elder Wand served you well, Severus."

Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't have that wand."

"What?"

"Albus mentioned that he was trying to find it, but that he believed it to be lost forever."

"Severus, he _had_ the wand. You have possession of it now – you killed him!"

Severus shook his head. "Albus was cremated. He didn't want anyone to see his body the way it looked after he had died. The wand was with him."

"But…what's the Elder Wand?" Harry asked.

"It's the most powerful and coveted wand in existence," the Doctor explained. "You gain its allegiance by either killing or simply disarming the previous owner – it was never entirely clear how it worked, you can't really understand wands – but he seems to have stopped that."

"But if it's the most powerful wand in existence," Harry said slowly, "can it be destroyed by fire?"

The Doctor looked to Severus, who seemed to be searching his memory. "I don't remember anyone mentioning finding the remains of his wand, but I was not present at the funeral for obvious reasons."

"Do you know where his ashes are?"

"Yes."

"Then we can find out!" The Doctor exclaimed. "We can go there right now, open the jar and-"

"You can't do that!" Harry interrupted. "It's Dumbledore's grave, you can't just rummage through it!"

"But we could save lives with it! We could stop another monster like Voldemort rising to power, because _we_ would be in power! Don't you see?"

Severus nodded. "But such power leads to corruption. It is much better for the world to let the secret die; if we make it public, we may very well be assassinated, the wand stolen, and someone worse in power. It is too dangerous."

"I never thought I'd say it," Harry added, "but I agree with Snape."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Really?"

"Yes," Severus replied. "And if you intend to find it despite our opinions, I promise you that my help will not be forthcoming."

The Doctor nodded, recognising the wisdom of the idea. "Alright. Yes, you're right – what was I thinking? Ok, we should probably get back to the battle scene."

Severus nodded. "Yes." He lifted his left arm up and pulled his sleeve back, showing that the Dark Mark seemed to be in its death throes, the black ink of the tattoo writhing as if in pain. "The Death Eaters will likely be trying to escape by now."

Harry stared at the pale forearm. "Does that mean that the Mark will disappear?" He reflexively touched the scar on his forehead before dropping his hand, looking disappointed.

The Doctor shook his head. "They'll never disappear. At the most, they'll fade and become inactive, but that's more than we could have hoped for ten minutes ago. Speaking of which," he added, flicking his wand and sending his Patronus haring off into the distance, "I should tell everyone that Voldemort is dead, in case they don't know already."

"Let's go then!" Harry yelled, grinning in jubilation before promptly running off towards the battle scene.

"Blimey," the Doctor muttered, running after Harry, "that boy knows how to run. He's almost faster than me, which is surprising, because I run all the time. You'd be surprised how fast Daleks can roll, or Cybermen can stomp." He continued talking through his breathlessness, unaware that he now had no company. "I mean, they look slow, they look like they shouldn't even _move_, and yet somehow they manage to almost take over the universe. Not the world, or a pocket of it, but several galaxies…" he turned to the left, about to ask Severus his opinion, when he noticed for the first time that he was alone.

Spinning around, he seeing that Severus was nowhere to be seen. "Harry!" He spun the other way, noticing the other boy still running in the distance. "HARRY!"

The boy turned back. "What?"

"Wait a minute! Don't move!"

The Doctor ran back the way he had come, ducking particularly low branches and leaping over puddles, skidding down hills, before he finally came across Severus, who was sitting leaning against a tree, his eyes closed. The Doctor skidded to a halt and knelt beside the man, shaking his shoulder.

"Severus?"

The man twitched involuntarily, and the Doctor was reminded of Voldemort's last Cruciatus Curse. On a man that had already been weakened, he thought with a stab of anger in the direction of the dead psychopath, the effects would have been worsened.

"Can you hear me?"

The dark eyes opened blearily. "He's dead."

The Doctor blinked. "Yes, he's dead – well done, by the way. I have to admit, I never saw it coming." He watched as the man twitched again, his mouth forming a grimace. "Can you stand?"

Severus sneered. "Why do you think I'm sitting in the mud?"

"Right, sorry…" the Doctor moved forwards and put an arm around Severus' waist, lifting him to his feet with little effort. Severus swayed, dizzy, and the Doctor held them both still, waiting until the man was more balanced. "Ready?"

Severus nodded, and they moved off slowly. "Take me with you."

"I am. We're going back to the castle."

"No…your universe. Take me there."

The Doctor glanced at Severus in surprise. "What do you want to go there for? I thought you'd have had enough danger to last you a lifetime."

"The Dark Lord is dead," Severus repeated, as though that answered everything.

The Doctor nodded, and lifted one of Severus' arms across his shoulders when he felt the other man begin to slip. "You still have friends in this universe, you know. You could find a new purpose."

"And have Lily forever haunt me when the chance to forget is standing right next to me?" Severus demanded.

"I thought…well, obviously you don't _like_ it, but…oh, how do I put this without it sounding badly phrased and insensitive?" he wondered. "I mean, you know that feeling, when you love someone so much it hurts to remember them, but you insist on torturing yourself, because it feels good, in its way? It feels good to remember them, and good to know you still love them, even though they're not there? Like…a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, both the same person, constantly whispering into your ears."

There was a brief silence before the man next to him offered a single word. "Rose."

The Doctor nodded, struggling to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Yes."

Silence reigned as they struggled up a muddy hill, dodging low branches and rabbit holes, before they finally emerged on flat ground again. Severus breathed heavily, his weight leaning into the Doctor, but he continued forward.

"I understand," Severus murmured when they had both got their breath back.

"Good." The Doctor nodded, unsure of what else to say.

"Take me with you."

"I don't…really want another person to worry about."

Severus snorted. "You took Donna with you. She is surely less experienced in the world of death and spying than I."

"I'm thinking about taking her home."

"Surely that is her choice to make? She is an adult, Doctor, not a child. She can make her own decisions."

"Yes…unfortunately. But I could just leave her there."

Severus snorted. "She would not take kindly to that. TARDIS or not, she would find you, Doctor, and dish out her revenge if ever you succeeded in leaving her there."

The Doctor chuckled at the image. "Yes…I'm sure she would. But tell me, why come to a universe with Daleks, Cybermen and weird, confusing time paradoxes when you could just live a quiet life here?"

"A quiet life spent being persecuted by both sides, a cross over my head demanding my death, unable to find a job once the Ministry no doubt kicks me out of Hogwarts without Dumbledore there to protect me, and the haunting memory of all my wrongs?" Severus laughed bitterly. "I am hardly alight with joy at the prospect. And I could help you, Doctor. I come from a Muggle background; you could teach me how to work your machines. I could help you look after Donna. Two people cannot continue saving the universe without disastrous consequences. A third might help."

The Doctor sighed. "Why do I always get convinced into these things?"

"You are going soft in your old age."

"If you weren't already injured," the Doctor muttered, "I would poke you for that – really hard."

Severus chuckled. "How childish."

At long last, the last of the branches parted and they found Harry, standing where the Doctor had left him. Severus regarded the boy in surprise. "What are you doing here, Potter? Weren't you foolishly running off into the battle to get yourself killed again? You know what they say, Death might get lucky on its third time."

Harry scowled. "I didn't choose any of it. Anyway, the Doctor told me to wait here," he said shortly, grasping his wand as he regarded Severus warily. "What happened to you?"

"A bit of everything."

The Doctor nodded forwards. "Looks like the battle's dying down."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Hermione sent me a Patronus saying that most of the Death Eaters have fled or are…well…" he hesitated, looking sickened with his comrades, "dead."

The Doctor offered him a reassuring smile. "It's war, Harry, some were always going to die. Just be thankful it's not those you wanted to survive."

Harry swallowed. "Actually…Fred didn't make it. He was next to an exploding wall."

"Oh…really?" The Doctor shook his head. "I'd hoped the battle turned out differently, with less of our side dead. Who else?"

"Tonks." Harry thought for a moment. "Moody. He was killed by a stray hex. His spinning eye got stuck. He didn't see it coming. Hermione was there."

"How ironic," Severus murmured, but with no sting in his words.

The group split apart for a moment as they walked around a group of dead Death Eaters and continued on their trek to the castle.

"Is Donna still alive?" the Doctor asked, his heart beating wildly in his chest in panic.

Harry nodded. "Tonks, Moody and Fred are the only people I know of who didn't make it," he added, "so I can't tell you anymore."

The Doctor sighed in relief. "Harry, can you hang onto Severus for a minute? I need to send a Patronus to Donna, now that the battle is over."

Harry obediently wrapped an arm around his old professor's waist and supported him while the Doctor took out his wand and flicked it in the direction of the castle, sending his Patronus running off once again. Severus and Harry didn't look happy at all with their enforced contact, each of them scowling at the other and staying as far away from each other as possible. The Doctor, exasperated at both of them, ended both of their torment and they carried on walking in silence, everyone too exhausted from the day's events to hold a conversation.

They stepped over the rubble gingerly, and the Doctor tried to ignore the fact that there was a hand sticking out of it. A hand that wasn't attached to a body, as far as he could see. People were either rejoicing or mourning all around them, the last Death Eaters mere silhouettes as they sprinted helplessly towards the school's boundaries.

It was chaos inside the castle, just as it was on the battlefield. The Great Hall had turned into a makeshift hospital once it had become clear that many of the wounded could not make it to the Hospital Wing itself. The area was in shambles; tables had been pushed towards the wall to make room for the injured, or had been blasted to pieces in the battle. The enchanted ceiling did not seem very enchanted anymore, and whole groups of people were gathered crying around inert bodies even as the injured looked solemnly on.

Filch, who seemed to have recovered from the blow that Severus dealt him, was now hobbling through the wreckage with a broom, attempting to sweep rubble from the middle of the floor in order to make way for new bodies or casualties. He saw Severus and his lips tightened, clearly unsure of whether to walk over or not.

The Doctor felt Severus nod, and Filch relaxed slightly, turning back to his task as though his question had been confirmed. Whispering began to fill the hall, and people began to gradually point at Harry.

"There he is!" Someone yelled. "The Boy Who Lived Again! How did you do it, Harry? How did you kill _him_?"

The Doctor shifted. "I didn't tell them," he explained to the man next to him, "because I thought it should come from those who were there rather than a Patronus."

Severus nodded, even as Harry blushed and opened his mouth, about to speak, when cheers spread across the room, drowning him out. A crowd of people rushed forwards and lifted Harry onto their shoulders, cheering madly. Some were crying. Harry looked alarmed as he glanced back at the two men he had been standing next to.

"No! Wait – STOP!"

The crowd stopped walking, staring at their embarrassed and annoyed saviour in shock.

Harry grimaced, obviously hating the sheer amount of attention that he was receiving, and demanded, "Let me down." Once he was on the ground, he turned so that he was facing the majority of people in the hall. "Listen to me! Yes, I died and came back, but I didn't kill Voldemort!"

"But the prophecy-"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Harry admitted, "but it turns out that once Voldemort was human, he could be killed by anybody. Professor Snape did it."

The hall was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. Severus shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you," he muttered sarcastically.

"Hang on, I think they're just a bit confused," the Doctor murmured, before raising his voice. "The prophecy said 'neither can live while the other survives' – all that meant was that Harry was a Horcrux-" the room looked confused "-a piece of Voldemort's soul was stuck to Harry," the Doctor elaborated. The room gasped. "BUT," he added, once several people stared at Harry in disgust, "he isn't anymore, because we killed it! Once the Horcrux had been taken care of, Voldemort was just human, and anyone could have killed him. Not Harry, anyone. All the prophecy meant was that the two were linked by Voldemort's own soul."

There were mutterings of dawning comprehension, before someone shouted out, "Well, either way, he's dead!"

The crowd cheered and began celebrating, nobody daring or wanting to approach Severus, it seemed, save a few of the bravest. And even then, Severus was uncomfortable and cold, not speaking unless necessary.

When the attention had died down a bit, Severus turned to the Doctor. "Please."

The Doctor nodded. "Are you sure? You'll never be able to come back."

Severus nodded. "I'm certain."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you. Now, where's Donna? I told her to meet me here…"

As soon as he spoke, a familiar face appeared amongst the crowd and caught sight of him, mouth dropping open as she waved her hands to make sure that he saw her. The Doctor grinned widely in profound relief to see her alive as she pushed her way through the crowd frantically.

"DOCTOR!"

The Doctor grinned. "Hello! Did you work out how to use the gun in the end?"

Donna nodded. "But no thanks to _you_ Space Boy – you just disappeared! I turned around to ask you what the purple ribbon-y thing was supposed to do and you were gone! I almost got my head blasted off looking for you!"

"Sorry," the Doctor apologised, wincing at her description of events. "Harry went running off without telling anyone."

"It's _fine_, you prune," Donna said loudly, punching the Doctor lightly on his arm. "It all turned out alright, didn't it? I still have a head, don't I? And _you_!" she exclaimed, turning to Severus. "I can't _believe_ what you did – was this in the books? No…wait, it can't have been."

"I believe you said that I died in the books," Severus said drily, his eyes twinkling.

"And you're going to die in this universe too," the Doctor pointed out.

Donna stared at him. "If that's supposed to be a death threat, it's not very funny!"

"It's not a death threat, Donna! When do I _ever_ give death threats? I'm not a psychopath!"

"Luckily for us," Donna muttered.

"_Anyway_, what I meant was that, for all intents and purposes, Severus will be dead in this universe, if he comes with us."

"What do you mean, he's coming with us? You're not-"

"No, Donna, I'm not kidnapping in an attempt to 'right' the timeline after he failed to die," the Doctor replied, and they both grinned. "He wanted to come."

"Great. Another crazy man to argue with and stop from killing themselves," Donna growled, but she was smiling. "Welcome aboard, Plant Boy."

"Thank you, though I am somewhat apprehensive of our forthcoming arguments," Severus replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"Arguments, me? _Never_. So should we be going, then, now that everything's sorted out?"

"You cannot leave now," a voice protested, and they all turned around to see Minerva standing behind them, looking surprised. "We have so much to sort out."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, "but we were called here for one purpose and one purpose only. We've finished, the danger is over. All that's left now is a monumental pile of paperwork and incarcerating the Death Eaters, which I think you probably have well underway without the three of us."

Minerva sighed. "You can't stay even a day longer?"

The Doctor shook his head. "The TARDIS is all powered up and ready to go. If I leave it too long, we won't be able to get back."

Minerva nodded. "Alright. I wish you luck on returning to your universe."

"Thanks," Donna said. "We'll need it, knowing the Doctor's flying."

"Oi!"

"Now, Severus," Minerva added, turning to the dark haired man, "I hear that you are responsible for our current state of liberty?" At Severus' nod, she continued. "In that case, I believe the Minister wants a word with you when you feel up to it. I understand that this last year has taken a lot out of you, but there really are a lot of things to sort out, Severus, and-"

"Minerva, stop. I can't. I'll be gone."

"Gone?" Minerva went pale. "You're not…dying?"

Severus snorted. "It hasn't gone quite that far, Minerva. No; I will be leaving with them. I'm not coming back."

"Not coming…" Minerva looked thunderstruck, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide, the most shocked that the Doctor had ever seen her. "But…Severus, you can't! You have people here who care for you, an Order of Merlin to receive – you've always wanted one of those-"

"And people out to kill me," Severus added, "as well as my mistakes constantly peering over my shoulder, the products of them living under my nose," he said, referring to Harry. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Minerva sighed, the fight going out of her. "Alright, Severus. I know how useless it is to argue with you. I only hope that you'll finally find peace in that universe." The corners of her mouth tipped up. "Even if it means living as a Muggle, from what Donna tells me."

Severus smirked. "There are certain perks to Muggle life." He paused. "They do not immediately spring to mind, however."

Minerva chuckled slightly, her eyes misty. "I had best inform the Minister so that he doesn't do something silly like send out a search party for you when you fail to meet with him." She nodded to Severus and offered him a small smile. "Goodbye."

Severus nodded. "Goodbye, Minerva."

The older woman walked slowly away, and Severus sighed. The Doctor looked at him. "You can still stay. One last chance."

"I'm coming."

"Let's go, then," Donna said, "before Filch comes running over and we have to deal with _his _reaction to Severus leaving."

Severus paled. "I see him coming." He started shuffling away, trying to pull the Doctor along with him.

"Hang on, hang on!" the Doctor said loudly, yanking Severus back into place. "Don't you think you should say goodbye to him? The man holds…a great deal of affection for you!"

"I…" Severus' mouth worked and his eyes looked desperate, like a trapped animal. "Doctor…Argus…" he sighed and closed his eyes. "Let go of me, and I'll meet you in Spinner's End once I've said goodbye to him. I'd rather that you don't hear it."

The Doctor nodded solemnly and let go of Severus, who promptly almost collapsed to the ground. The Doctor grabbed hold of him again quickly, hoisting him back up into a standing position just before he hit the floor.

"Maybe we should get you some potions first. Or maybe a wheelchair."

"I'm not using a _wheelchair_."

"I don't think they have any here anyway," Donna pointed out. "Not in a world where people are cured quickly by magic."

"Good point," the Doctor conceded. "Very good point. Hang on. Donna, could you hold…?"

Donna rolled his eyes. "You make him sound like a toddler. Yes, Doctor, I can _hold_ him while you go and buy some nappies."

Severus scowled at her as the Doctor went in search of Poppy Pomfrey. "I resent the implication."

Trying not to laugh, the Doctor finally managed to track down Poppy and briefly explain the situation to her, talk her out of coming over to see Severus herself as she had others to tend to, and made his way back to the couple, who were just where he had left them, except now Severus was blushing furiously and Donna was laughing so much that it was a struggle to keep both of them upright.

The Doctor stopped and held out the potions to Severus, who gratefully drank them. "He came while I was away, didn't he?"

Donna nodded, sputtering. "You should have heard, it was like Romeo and Juliet, just without the balcony."

Severus scowled. "We shouldn't laugh at him," he muttered. "He is in pain."

Donna immediately sobered at that. "Yeah, sorry. Sometimes I forget to look behind the scenes."

Severus sighed, letting go of Donna as his strength was restored. "Let's just go," he pleaded. "This is quickly becoming unbearable, and I would really rather not have more conversations like the one I just endured with Argus."

Together, they walked out of the Great Hall and into the fresh air of the grounds, the smoke and debris hardly making an impression on them anymore as they thought of their goal, freedom in the form of a TARDIS at Spinner's End, and disapparated, unnoticed by the noisy crowd that was still crammed into the Great Hall. Unseen by them, the sun began to set, sending a streak of blood red light across the horizon.


	24. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

_Five months later…_

"There we go!" the Doctor exclaimed, landing the TARDIS with a flourish, though not without a few bumps and scrapes along the way. "A nice long holiday, just what we needed. Told you we could have one without being attacked!"

Donna snorted. "What about the Maloftites? One of them tried to choke me to death!"

"Oh_, that_…that was just a misunderstanding," the Doctor dismissed, fiddling with the screen on the control panel. "Cultural differences and all that."

"I asked one of them for an explanation," Severus revealed, smirking. "He claims that they are a highly advanced society and could not withstand your uncouth way of eating."

"Fork in left hand, knife in right, elbows in, mouth closed," Donna rattled off, looking annoyed, "I did all of that – what more _could_ I do?"

Severus' smirk deepened. "Apparently, forks are considered very backward."

"So what was I supposed to do, eat with a knife and impale myself on it?"

"Actually," the Doctor said vaguely, "I think you were supposed to wish the food into your mouth."

"Oh shut up, Space Boy, this is no time to be funny!"

The Doctor finally looked up, his expression one of confusion. "No, I wasn't being funny. Didn't you see that little square next to your plate? That was a Brain Wave Feeder – it literally feeds you using your brain waves."

"Then why did they give me cutlery and why didn't you _tell_ me any of this?"

Severus smirked. "Cutlery was obviously a backup of sorts, although apparently they need to be better trained to withstand its 'uncouth' nature. And," he added, "I failed to mention it because I needed to be entertained somehow during a boring formal function."

"Fantastic. Idiots, both of you!"

"Yes!" the Doctor exclaimed, bouncing upright and grinning from ear to ear.

"What is it _now_?" Donna demanded.

"I've checked the TARDIS controls, watched a bit of TV – it wasn't brilliant, but then it was a soap – and we're in the twenty first century, Earth."

Severus' eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "You didn't know this?"

Donna glared at him. "Oh, didn't you know? He sets the controls at random sometimes. I'd have told you, but I needed to be '_entertained somehow_'."

Severus sighed, looking truly exasperated. "You hold a grudge better than the Dark Lord himself."

"No, I hold a grudge better than _you_. Now get going, Plant Boy. I want to see where we are."

The Doctor ran to the door and flung it open, all but bouncing into the new atmosphere. Severus looked at Donna in amused exasperation, slight smile on his lips. "Is he like this whenever we land somewhere?"

"Yeah. He's like some sort of energetic, out of space humanoid spring. You couldn't squash him if you tried."

"Good old Earth!"

"See?" Donna quipped, grinning. "He's already rambling."

They watched in amusement as the Doctor strolled forwards, hands in pockets, and inspected a tree nearby before turning his face up to look at the sky. "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" He breathed in deeply. "And a nice clear day, too. I tell you, I've seen more of them than I can count but it never gets old…" he trailed off as he turned around, noticing them watching him. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Donna said innocently. "Let's just go and find the nearest town. I need some shoes."

"Oh…really? You don't want to find a landmark or a famous person…re-invent something?"

"No," Donna repeated. "I want shoes. _Heels_, since you two are both so tall. I feel like a midget in these flats."

Severus smirked. "You would put Filius to shame."

The Doctor stared at her. "Really? Heels?"

Donna gave him The Look.

"Alright…I suppose we could spare some time for that," the Doctor coughed, much to Donna's amusement.

Donna held out her arm and the Doctor obediently linked his with it, still looking around with a look that suggested he was thinking hard. Donna held out her other arm, and Severus frowned at it.

"What?"

The taller man began to look distinctly uncomfortable. "It is improper."

Donna rolled her eyes. "And insulting me every five minutes isn't? You have a weird idea of chivalry." But when he continued to stand there, she didn't press the matter.

"Trees," the Doctor counted, "cool breeze, birds, hills – blimey, there are a lot of hills – we must be…north."

"North," Severus repeated drily. "Where, exactly?"

"Well…" the Doctor span in a little circle, taking Donna with him, though she was too used to this absent minded behaviour by now to complain. "The air is fresh and getting cold, very few cars." He jumped up and down several times. "Good, solid gravel paths – I like that, very good grip, gravel – a few young people…" he broke off as a huge clump of teenagers walked past. "Alright…a _lot_ of young people."

He glanced around, noticing that the path they were on seemed to lead upwards into a forest of sorts. A path forwards and to their left led to a long, solid looking bridge overlooking a river, while a hill directly in front of them snaked upwards and out of sight. Another group of teenagers started up the hill, chattering and laughing. No one seemed to have noticed them and the decidedly out of place TARDIS.

"We're in Durham."

Severus looked doubtful. "Are you certain?"

"Oh yes. And there's always the regional news, which is helpful. I saw a few seconds of it when I was watching the TV," the Doctor admitted.

"So you didn't really know where we are from just looking," Donna teased.

"Well…to a certain extent." The Doctor suddenly found a nearby tree very interesting.

"Yeah, yeah," Donna said jokingly, before giving his arm a jerk and saying, "come on! Those shoes won't buy themselves, you know!"

She happily pulled the Doctor up the giant hill in front of them, Severus on her other side and walking slightly further ahead due to his long strides. Teenagers still surrounded them in every direction, some of them hiking up the hill at unbelievable speeds.

"You know," Donna puffed, "this is really making me realise that I need to do some exercise."

Severus snorted. "Was the running throughout your adventures not a hint?"

Donna studiously ignored him. "Why are there so many children? They're _everywhere_, it's like they're the only people around!"

"Oh," the Doctor pointed, "hang on, I see a professor."

"A professor?" Donna repeated, craning her neck to see who the Doctor meant. "How do you know he's not just a temp or a banker or something?"

"Because," Severus answered, before the Doctor could reply, his voice slow as though he was talking to an idiot, "we are in Durham. Therefore, we are near a university which, rather unsurprisingly, explains the sheer amount of students and one single man dressed in a suit. Since a majority of the students appear to be coming from that direction," he pointed behind him and down the hill, "we can assume that there is a residence of sorts at the bottom of the hill, and that the professor is either a live-in member, or enjoys the scenery."

Donna glared at him. "Yes, alright. You don't have to write me an essay."

"You asked."

The Doctor chuckled. "He does have a point."

"Don't you go encouraging him, Doctor!" Sheepish silence followed as they reached the top of the hill and found themselves on a road, walking towards a roundabout. "I'm glad that hill's over," she added, eager to change the subject. "I think my legs were about to fall off."

"Hang on…" the Doctor glanced at a nearby tree, seeing a poster stuck to it. "It's election time! I love election time – you never know just who you're going to get."

"_You_ do," Severus quipped.

"Well, yes, but sometimes it's made interesting by things you don't read about in the history books. Like this…" he peered closely at the poster. "I have no idea who that man is."

"But if he's running for Prime Minister shouldn't he be mentioned in the history books?" Donna asked. "It'd make sense, wouldn't it?"

"History is written by the victor, Donna. So whoever wins this election may very well not want this man to be known about. The question is why… usually if they want to ruin someone's reputation they just send out a bucket-load of propaganda but this…" he stared at the picture of the uncommonly handsome man on the poster, "is something else entirely."

Suddenly, the Doctor stiffened, his expression intense. Severus stared at the Doctor, beginning to look obviously confused.

"What is it?" Severus demanded.

"It can't be…" the Doctor murmured, spinning around wildly, his eyes searching every surface, nook and cranny for something. "But it's too faint to tell…and it could be nothing, I mean, I've been wrong before."

"About what?" Donna asked.

The Doctor's eyes continued to narrow as he searched their surroundings before he gradually began to keep walking again. "I can't be sure, something - some_one_ that I've met before… and if it's who I think it is, we might be in trouble. Big trouble."

Donna sighed, wondering when they were ever going to have more than a few weeks at a time without some sort of trouble. No matter how small, they always seemed to manage to get themselves into a tight situation, and now was no different. Although…

Donna tried in vain to fight back the apprehension that was gradually burning its way up her throat. They had had a good run, lately. They had only had one or two incidents, nothing major. And knowing the Doctor, she thought as they walked along the sunny road in silence, whatever happens next could very well be colossal just to make up for the peace they had enjoyed.

Somehow, she knew the holiday was over.

**Author's Note: **Ok, that is the first chapter of the sequel I have planned. I was just going to write a simple epilogue, but my muse got in the way of that so you now have much more to read! :p Thank you as always for those who have been supportive and stuck with this story until the end. It means a lot to me! There might be a bit of a gap between the update of this chapter and the beginning of the next story, but that's only because I need to get a bit written first before I go haring off and uploading unfinished work. I know I made a few mistakes in this story, which is annoying, so I'll try to keep that to a minimum next time. As always, if you notice anything off, even if it's a spelling, please let me know. :D Once I'm sure of the title for the sequel, I'll put it up on my profile or put a note on the new story mentioning this one so you know how to find it.


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